She trimmed the truth carefully. Was she protecting me?
The realization sat strangely in my chest.
She should have handed him every detail. Instead, she guarded the secrets most likely to expose me while insisting nothing had happened because I had never threatened or touched her.
Then Stitch asked whether she wanted me to stop.
I had leaned closer to the screen without realizing it.
JJ hesitated.
Her fingers moved toward the pendant beneath her shirt, then stopped before Stitch noticed.
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
That answer stayed with me for the rest of the day.
So did the one that followed.
Sometimes he feels less dangerous than the people whose faces I know.
She had no idea what I was capable of. She knew only the version of me that watched, left dandelions, and spoke th
