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She looks so small. And so damn beautiful.

I move slowly, giving her time to hear me coming. She doesn’t turn around, just tilts her head slightly when I sit down beside her.

She doesn’t immediately retreat, which I take as a win. Every time I’ve managed to get close to her today, she’s tightened—physically, emotionally. Like she’s bracing for something. But now, she just exhales. Barely a sound, but enough to let me know I’m not unwelcome.

I rest my arms on my knees, giving her space. And then I let the silence settle between us. We sit in the quiet together, listening to the distant hum of night insects and the occasional creak of the house settling behind us.

When she speaks, it’s almost too soft to catch.

“I didn’t mean to worry anyone.”

I glance over. Her profile’s faint in the low light, but I can make out the tight line of her jaw. “You didn’t worry us,” I say. But the soft huff tells me she doesn’t buy my bullshit. “Okay, you worried us.”

“Finn sent you.”

“I would have come anyway, Ani. I care about you.”

That gets her attention. She looks at me, and our eyes meet for the first time today. I hope she can’t see the desperation written all over my face.

God, the way I want this girl…

“I’m okay,” she says quickly, and it sounds rehearsed. One of those phrases people say out of habit more than truth.

I nod slowly. “You don’t have to be, you know.”

Ani presses her lips together. Her hands tighten in the sleeves. Then she looks down at the porch.

“My old life is still trying to pull me back,” she says in a brittle voice. “And I don’t know how long I can hold it off. Boone is right about me.”

That lands hard. “Are you in danger?”

She shakes her head, but it’s not convincing. “Not…directly.”

“What does that mean?”

Her fingers curl tighter. “It means I didn’t leave because I was being chased. I left because staying would have slowly killed me.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then she adds, “I ran away the night before my wedding. Everyone thought it was a good match. On paper, he was perfect. But no one ever asked me.”

I swallow hard.

“He wasn’t cruel,” she says, almost defensively. “Not in the way people think of cruelty. I mean, he wasn't exactly nice. His comments had bite. But I couldn’t breathe. I was disappearing. And my family was happy to watch me wither. They expected it, even.”

Something lodges in my throat. “So you ran.”

She nods once. “I had to.”

The moonlight catches the curve of her cheek. Her skin’s paler than usual. The shadows under her eyes are darker. But there’s a strength in the way she finally says these things aloud.

“Does anyone know where you are?”

“I don’t think so,” she responds. “If they did they would have come to take me back.”

She continues. “When I say everything I had burned up in that motel fire, I meant it. I’d squirreled money away for years so that I had something…just in case I got up the nerve to leave. I gave the motel a false name, paid in cash. Even you don’t know my name.”

That part stings, even though I understand it. “Your name isn’t actually Ani?”

“It’s my preferred name, yes. But few people actually refer to me by it. Nicknames aren’t proper in my culture.”