Brielle
For a moment, I looked at him for a second, just standing there on the pavement, hands in his pockets, waiting. In my past life, a moment like this would have wrecked me. Adrian Ward, showing up and wanting to talk. I would have tripped over myself to hear every word.
But that wasn't me anymore.
"Walk with me," I said.
We moved along the outer edge of the neighborhood, away from windows and porch lights. I kept a solid three feet between us the whole time, which he noticed but didn't comment on.
He talked. And honestly, the fact that he was talking at all surprised me.
He told me about a text he'd gotten from an unknown number. Then he told me what his grandfather had said at dinner, something about bloodlines and inheritance, words he hadn't been able to stop thinking about.
