The invitation from Sarah and Mike came three days after that long talk with Agent Rodriguez about trying to live a full life even when danger never really leaves you.
Sarah called while I was half-buried in case studies for my Trauma Psych class. Her voice had that warm, excited tone that immediately makes you feel guilty if you even think about saying no.
“Elena! So—remember I said we should have dinner sometime? How about this Saturday? Nothing big. Just grilling in the backyard, maybe a little wine. We’d love to hang out more.”
I glanced over at Rodriguez. He was pretending to read by the window, but I could tell he was listening. One raised eyebrow from me, one small nod from him. That was all I needed.
“Saturday’s perfect,” I told her, and it really did feel like it. “What should
