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Then at me.

“I was getting there.”

“No, you weren’t.”

“I had two cabinets left.”

“There are six.”

“Exactly.”

I laughed despite myself and reached for the coffee.

Ellis leaned against the counter beside me.

For a moment, I didn’t look at him.

The panic from upstairs was already fading, but I could still feel how quickly my mind filled in the silence before I knew what was actually happening.

“You okay?”

I glanced at him.

“Yeah.”

His eyes stayed on me.

“You sure?”

There it was.

The chance to tell him I was fine and move on.

I almost took it.

Instead, I set the coffee on the counter.

“I thought you left.”

Ellis went still. “When?”

“When I woke up.”

His expression shifted, and for once, I didn’t have to search his face to figure out what he was thinking.

He understood.

“I wouldn’t leave without telling you.”

“I know.”

The embarrassing part was that I did.

But knowing something and trusting it before I had proof were apparently still two different things.

“I just…” I shook my head. “Your clothes were gone, and you weren’t there, and for a second I thought⁠—”

“I left.”