“Two hours," Alvarez said over the line. “Sleep, June."
“I'll close my eyes," Jayden answered, unlocking the apartment door. “That's all I can promise."
“That's more than you've given anyone tonight," the detective said, and hung up.
The lock clicked. The living room came up in a low amber wash from the lamp Hazel liked—the one with the shade she'd rescued from a flea market and declared “undefeated." The place smelled faintly of rain and the ghost of jasmine rice. Jayden stood there with his hands on the strap of his coat like a man trying to remember where to set down his life.
His phone buzzed. *Rosalind: Ultrasound done. No bleeding. Doctor says stress. I'm scared. I need you.*
He typed: *I'm home. Sleep. Text me in the morning.*
Three dots, then: *Okay. Please don't shut me out.
