“What time is it?” Ian asked.
Abigail looked at him strangely. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Duncan thinks I’m in Jersey, returning on the morning ferry.”
“Is that why you’re hiding here?”
Ian nodded. “He came looking for me last night, but I slipped out of the house and came here. My father told him I was returning today.”
“The ferry doesn’t arrive for another thirty minutes,” she said, a confused look on her face. “But why would he care?”
Ian sighed. He had no choice but to trust her. But he was sure he could. They had loved each other once. Maybe they still did.
“You better tell me everything,” she said firmly. “Especially if you want me to help.”
He stood at a crossroads—a moment to define the rest of his life. He could lie, knowing whatever he said could be prove
