Mace lays fresh clothes on the bed and waits for me outside as I put them on. I struggle as I put on the long-sleeved shirt, which smells like it was doused in Mace’s scent, but I manage to put it on. When I’m done, I open the squeaky door and head outside. It is blindingly bright outside, and I squeeze my eyes shut, cringing at the morning sunlight burning my eyelids. I force my eyes open and squint against the glare of the sun as I study my surroundings.
Dominic, as Mace had said, is standing guard by the door. He is in his usual attire—a black suit—and his hands are behind his back. He gives me a small bow of his head and says, “It’s good to see you, Miss.”
I can’t help but smile. “It is good to see you too, Dominic.”
The shack, with its rusting zinc walls, is encased by the woods.
