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Tell that to the Keans, I think but don’t say.
She sits up next to me. "I've been thinking that maybe we could help the Keans fight these rumors. I could talk to some reporters about all the good they've done for me and Mom."
My body goes cold. "What?"
"Well, they helped so many of us after the fire?—"
"No." Her words feel like a knife in my chest. Once again, she wants to help the people who killed my family.
She pulls back, her eyes wide. "But if people knew…"
The truth is sitting on the tip of my tongue.The Keans are murderers who stole everything from the Ifrinns, and you helped them. You’re complicit, Jenna. How does it feel to be a murderer?
I take a breath. "The press will twist anything you say. Or people will think the Keans paid you to say it. Plus, the Keans might not like a lowly staff person acting like they can save the family. It's better to stay out of it."
"I just want to help." She reaches for my hand, but I roll out of bed. It’s time to end this before I blow the mission altogether. "Blaise? What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Just drop it, okay?"
"I don't understand why you're so upset. If we could show people the real Keans?—"
"The real Keans?" I let out a bitter laugh. "You don't—" I stop myself.
"I don't what?" She rises from the bed, standing before me, arms crossed. "Why are you acting like this?"
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. "The press is dangerous, Jenna. They'll dig into everything, everyone. Including you. Including your mom. Is that what you want?"
"No, but?—"
"Then leave it alone." I need to get this ship back on track. I soften my voice. "Please."
She studies my face like she’s trying to read my mind and figure me out. Before she can say anything, her phone rings. She pulls it from her purse and answers it. Immediately, her expression falls.
"What? But I just saw her… She was fine."
Shit. That doesn’t sound good.
"I'm coming. Tell her I'm coming." The words tumble out of her as she scrambles to find her clothes.
I catch her shoulders. "What happened?"
"Mom's in the hospital. I have to—I need to?—"
"I'll drive you.” I quickly dress, and we hurry to the hospital. I pull into the emergency entrance. "Go. I'll park and find you."
Jenna is out of the car before it fully stops.
I park and head to the emergency room. Jenna isn’t there, and I hope that means she’s able to see her mother. I’m worried sick. I’m worried for Mrs. Hart, who I don’t have any qualms with. And I’m worried for Jenna, who a few minutes ago, I wanted to hurt the way she made me and my brothers hurt.
What the hell am I doing? This isn't part of the plan. I'm getting tangled up in her life, feeling things I have no business feeling. But I can't shut it off, this need to protect her, comfort her, be there for her. Maybe I’m crazy.
I pace the hospital waiting room replaying Jenna’s earlier words about defending the Keans to the press. The family that murdered my parents. The family she helped.
The rage I need to follow through on my mission bubbles up. The Keans took everything from us, and here's Jenna, ready to sing their praises.
But then Jenna emerges, eyes red and puffy, and something in my chest constricts. She walks straight into my arms, burying her face in my chest. Her tears soak through my shirt.
"The doctors say she's stable," she whispers. "But her heart… it's getting worse."