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I’m educated, got great grades in school from when I was five to when I graduated summa cum laude from my masters.

But I do feel a bit stupid when—after telling Wes we’re going out in a very significant way—Tucker drags me down to the garage that I didn’t even know existed, then drives for about three minutes in the early morning traffic and into another hidden garage of another house.

I suppose it’s Eli’s house.

And okay, it’s not like I’ve been working with Tuck for long. It’s going to be three weeks tomorrow, so I haven’t had that much time to snoop around.

But I am starting to think there’s more to this than extreme—probably necessary—security measures.

I didn’t have the capacity to get into it yesterday. Instead, Tucker told me everyone I know is safe, over and over, and that we should spend the day taking my mind off . . . that shitshow.

One thing I did manage to think through, is the fact that even while I was alone, feeling hunted, fearing the danger I’d put the boys in, I didn’t hear his voice in my head. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I did. Was it before the interview with Tucker?

Have I really not had his voice in my head all this time and only realized it now?

Tucker wrapped me in a soft blanket and got me out of my head before I could figure that out. I appreciated it because I didn’t have the capacity to figure out what to do for myself, and also because he had a point.

Everyone is safe, at least for now. The boys are having a few days with their older nieces and nephews—which they love saying—and I was finally not carrying this alone.

Now, in the morning light, I wish I’d asked more questions, but also not.

I managed to remember some details from the interview, including the fact that maybe I was a bit too apathetic—probably the shock and terror.

The point is, Tucker wanted to know it all, he kept cheering me on when I stopped to doubt an answer I’d given. He also told me a little about his meeting, mostly that it went great.

By the end of the day my mind and body were as tired as they were wired, but miraculously, I did sleep, though I fear that now I can only sleep well when I have a huge furnace of a man at my back, holding me tight and secure.

Do I want to know why they have these secret entrances to their homes?

Is it really imperative for me to know why Wes couldn’t be here? Why it seemed like maybe leaving him home is something Tucker does often?

I can’t think of any reason why the answer to any of those questions would be yes.

But I keep my eyes peeled for any clues regardless.

I step out of the car—a car I’d never seen and is unlike the SUVs the boys and Tucker normally use—which is simple, functional.

A gray sedan that’s probably a respectable seven years old and well maintained but plain.

If I’d known this was sitting in a garage under the house, then maybe I’d have asked Tucker if I could use it when I need to run errands and don’t want to bother Johnny.

I still might do that, though I honestly have no idea if Tucker will agree or not.

We climb out into an ordinary concrete garage—well, except for the shiny silver elevator doors at the center of the far wall.

Unfortunately, Tucker places his hand in the small of my back at the exact same time as the doors open without us doing anything to it.

Tucker ignores my jumpiness and when we step into the elevator, the doors close and it’s moving again without us having to press a button or anything.

Either the elevator is sentient—I don’t think that’s possible yet, is it?—or someone else is controlling it for us.

I’m not sure which is creepier, but both are weird options.

Trying to breathe steadily, I watch like a hawk when the doors open again and a dark hallway appears. The only light is coming from an inch-wide opening of the furthest door. It lets me see two other doors lining the right side of the hallway and a staircase going down and up on the left side.

“Eli?” Tuck asks the empty space, and an answering voice comes from the open door.

“Yeah, come on in,” he says loudly, and doesn’t sound upset or anything. Actually, he sounds chipper.