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I shake my head. “No.”

“Sweet.”

“I can't.”

The admission is barely audible.

Mercy understands immediately, and her face softens.

“I'll get your things.”

“No.”

I turn around.

Bitter is still watching me.

Of course he is.

I look straight at him. “My mama's picture is upstairs.”

His face changes. “I know.”

“She stays there.”

His brows draw together. “For now?”

The words come out exactly like yesterday.

That hurts.

Yesterday he sounded afraid.

Today I know better than to care.

“No.”

His face goes still.

I swallow. “I mean I'm not going up there for her.”

“Sweet.”

“You can keep her safe until somebody else gets her.”

“Who?”

“Mercy.”

Mercy nods once.

Bitter's jaw locks. “I can bring it down.”

“No.”

That comes out sharper than I mean.

He stops.