FORREST
I GOT back to the penthouse. My mother and Meadow were in the living room, engaged in a serious conversation.
“Mama, can we talk?” I threw Meadow a glare, hoping she would not try to be so dumb to not get the message. “Alone, please?”
Scowling, Meadow stomped upstairs. I sat beside Mama once Meadow was out of sight. I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her into my arms.
“How are you feeling?” I asked her when my anger wore off. I missed her terribly, but I couldn’t risk her being with me. I had to sacrifice something for us when in return, she would be safe.
“I’m good. You worry too much when I should be the one worrying about your suicide mission.”
I kissed the top of her head.
From the start, I knew she was right—it was a suicide, but I wanted answers. Once this was over
