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They might not have pinpointed my location, but they’rein town. And it’s not a far leap from there.

So I will do whatever I have to do to get away from here. I just need to go. Now.

My fingers tremble so hard I can’t grip the zipper when I try to close the bag. I try again. Miss. Try again. This time it catches, but snags halfway. I yank it free and jerk the bag closed just as the door flies open.

I freeze.

Boone fills the doorframe, eyes wild.

I put my arms up immediately. Muscle memory coils through me, dragging me backward toward things I don’t let myself think about. I know Boone wouldn’t hurt me. I know that. But knowing doesn’t always stop the fear.

His steps falter.

His expression says it all. He doesn’t come closer.

He lifts his hands slowly. “Jesus, Ani…”

He shakes his head. “I’m not?—”

I press my back to the dresser, one hand still clutched tight around the duffel strap.

“What are you doing?” His voice is solid steel.

I find my voice buried under a thousand layers of static. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“I asked you a question, Annie.”

“It’sAni.”

The words slip out sharper than I intend, cutting the moment clean. Boone stills. I’ve never corrected him before—I’ve been too afraid to.

I swallow the lump crawling its way up my throat. He asked me a question. I’ll give him an answer.

“I’m obviously leaving,” I clarify, forcing the words past my lips. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

But the look on his face isn’t victorious.

Instead he looks confused. Like I’ve just spoken another language.

I’m not sure what he was expecting me to say, but it clearly wasn’t that.

For a long moment, neither of us moves. He seems too confused by what I said, and I’m confused by his reaction.

His jaw tightens as he reaches for me. I clutch the strap of the duffel tighter.

“Don’t,” I say, voice low.

His fingers close around the strap anyway.

We stand there like that—me holding one end, him the other. His grip is stronger than mine. The fabric strains between us, taut enough to snap.

“Let go,” he says.

I shake my head. “It’s mine.”

He tugs once. I stumble a step forward, digging my heels into the rug.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he snaps.