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“Say it.”

I tighten my hand around the gun. “I use this if I have to.”

“Put it in the pocket of your apron.”

I slide it inside the rumpled pocket. My hands and clothes are filthy. I’d ask Nathaniel if I have time to shower and change, but I already know what he’ll say.

He steps back, his gaze moving over me.

“I’ll take care of everything,” he says. “I’ll clean everything up. Make sure no one knows anything. And I’ll come to you as soon as I can.”

I bite my lower lip.

“The east garage,” he says. “Bay four. Lower service road. No main gate.”

“I remember.”

“Coordinates?”

I recite them.

“Gate code?”

I recite that too.

“Phone number?”

I glare at him through tears I refuse to let fall. “I remember, Nathaniel.”

“Good.”

He says it like a man holding himself together by instructions.

I step closer. “You’re coming?”

“Yes. I promise.”

I nod.

I hate all of this.

I hate Arthur.

I hate Audrey for being dead and still making us clean up her mess.

I hate Hazel for leaving with the rest of the truth.

I hate Delaney’s name glowing from a hidden phone in my memory.

And I hate myself for being afraid to part ways with Nathaniel—a man who by all metrics is the wrong choice for me.

He takes my face in both of his hands.

His palms are rough. Dirt is embedded beneath his nails.

“Ella,” he says. “I need you alive. Do as I tell you. Please.”

I sniffle and nod.