Page 103

She studies me for a moment after that, like she’s measuring more than what I’m saying. Finally, she says, “I believe you.”

That should make it easier to breathe. But it doesn’t.

The rest of the evaluation is more of the same—emotional assessments, hypothetical questions, discussions about stress responses and coping mechanisms. When she asks if I have a support system, I list them without hesitation. Finn. Boone. Jonah. Mae.

By the end of the hour, I feel like I’ve been peeled completely open. But when she slides the signed statement across the table to me, I see the words printed at the bottom—“No indicators ofmental impairment or incapacity”—and something in my chest unlocks.

I thank her. I try to sound composed. Then I take the document and fold it twice.

On paper, I am free.

But freedom doesn’t mean safety.

When I walk outside, the California sun is bright. I shade my eyes with one hand, searching the curb for Boone’s truck. It’s idling just up the block.

The second they see me, both doors swing open. Boone rounds the front of the truck, assessing every inch of the sidewalk for threats. Finn moves quickly toward me. I lift a hand in greeting, something tight unraveling in my chest just from the sight of them.

It takes me a second too long to realize they’re zeroed in on something or someone right behind me.

I don’t have time to turn.

A hand reaches for my wrist. I yank back on instinct. My pulse spikes. I already know who it is.

“Anoush,” he says roughly.

The sound of his voice makes my stomach churn.

Boone is there in seconds. His hand closes around Davit’s wrist with controlled precision, and peels him off me like he’s scraping something foul off his shoe. He strategically places his body between mine and the threat without hesitation.

I see the flex of his jaw before I see his eyes, and when he speaks, his tone is lethal. “Touch her again, and I'll end you.”

Finn presses in behind me, one hand braced lightly across my stomach as he pulls me back into his chest. I don’t realize I’m shaking until I’m pressed against him.

Davit lifts both hands in mock surrender, eyes flicking between the two of them with a smirk on his lips. “No need to be dramatic. I just wanted to talk.”

“Your chance to talk ended the second you put your hands on her,” Boone snaps.

“I came to support her,” Davit says, turning the weight of his stare back on me. “This is all very overwhelming. I thought maybe seeing someone from home?—”

“You’re not her home,” Finn cuts in.

Davit’s gaze sharpens, but he doesn’t argue.

Boone doesn’t blink. “Leave. Now.”

Davit tilts his head like he’s debating what to do. “This isn’t over.”

Boone takes a step forward. Davit takes one back.

I can’t breathe until he turns and walks away. He doesn’t look back.

My legs give a little, but Finn is right there. His arm wraps around my waist, steadying me before I can stumble. Boone doesn’t move until Davit rounds the corner and disappears from sight. Only then does he turn back to me.

“You okay?” he asks.

No. I’m not. I want to say yes and mean it. But my throat is tight, and I still feel like I might collapse. I nod anyway.

Boone’s eyes search mine, then he pulls me into him, holding me tightly.