Page 32

RUBY SAT ON the edge of her hotel bed, staring at the dark void of her television screen. Her reflection stared back at her, distorted, pale, barely illuminated by the light in the bathroom that she hadn’t bothered to turn off.

The silence pressed down on her, thick and suffocating. Every time she blinked, Ellie’s face stared back at her—her wide, terrified eyes, the way her hands clung to her before the agents took her away.

She squeezed her fists so hard her nails dug into her palms. She should have done something. Lied. Hidden her. Bought her time. But she’d done what she was trained to do: handed her over and walked away.

Ellie would never grow out of childhood. She would never have a first kiss, drive a car legally, own a house. She was as stuck as Ruby, but worse, paralyzed in a body that granted her no power, no freedoms.

Ruby’s stomach churned.

The little box tucked into her overnight bag would make this easier. She could forget for a little while, just let everything fade.

She shoved the idea away. She hated that it had even crossed her mind. Hated that her first instinct was to run instead of facing what she’d done.

Her hands shook as she grabbed her jacket and slipped out the door.

JONAH ANSWERED ON the third knock, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He was shirtless, sweatpants hanging low on his hips, his hair a mess. His brow furrowed as he took her in. “Ruby?” His voice was thick with sleep. “What the hell—are you okay?”

The question almost made her laugh. Instead, she stepped past him without waiting for an invitation. The hotel room was dim, only the soft glow of the city outside cutting through the dark. She paced to the window, arms crossed, trying to keep the trembling out of her voice.

“We turned a kid over to the TCA today.”

Jonah stayed quiet. The door clicked shut, and the floor creaked as he stepped closer.

“I keep thinking—” She swallowed. “She was so scared. She didn’t do anything wrong. We could’ve helped her, could’ve at least explained…”

Jonah exhaled softly. “But we didn’t.”

Her jaw tightened. “No.”

He didn’t say they did the right thing. Didn’t try to comfort her with bullshit excuses about rules or protocol. He just stood there, watching her, waiting.

“I thought about getting high tonight.” The words scraped their way out, and she turned to face him. “But I don’t want to forget. I don’t want to pretend like it never happened.”

Jonah’s expression didn’t change, but something in his posture softened. “So you came here instead.”

She scoffed, shaking her head. “I don’t know why.”

“Yeah, you do.”

The air between them thickened, charged with anticipation. Jonah took a slow step closer, hesitation flickering in his eyes before he lifted a hand. His fingers hovered just short of touching her, like he was waiting for permission.

She didn’t give him the chance to think. Impatient, desperate, she launched herself at him, crashing her mouth against his, wrapping her arms around his neck. The heat of him, the solid weight of his body, the way his breath hitched—all of it sent a shudder through her.

He went still. She pulled back, her breath shallow, regret already curling in her gut.

Jonah stared at her, eyes dark, his lips slightly parted. One hand pressed against his mouth, as if in shock, as if he could still feel her there.

“Fuck,” he whispered, voice wrecked. Then he was on her.

His hands tangled in her hair as he yanked her closer, his lips crashing back onto hers. It wasn’t careful or controlled. It was teeth, heat, desperation. His fingers curled around the back of her neck, rough and insistent, holding her there as he deepened it.

She melted against him, hands fisting in his hair, pulling him closer, needing him closer.

He let out a ragged breath against her lips, and the sound sent something sharp and aching through her.

She pressed against him, feeling the solid wall of his chest, the way his heartbeat pounded against hers.

His jaw grazed along her cheek, the rough scrape of stubble a delicious sting against her skin.

She gasped, and he swallowed the sound like he was starving for it.

Her fingers fumbled at the edge of her shirt, eager, frantic, desperate for more.

His hands roamed with urgent precision, each touch a silent plea to smother the remorse clawing at her ribs.

The calloused pressure of his fingers was both grounding and overwhelming.

Then, as he pulled away just enough to meet her eyes, his warm breath whispering against her skin, he murmured, “Are you sure?”

She answered by shoving him onto the bed.

“WANNA COME HOME with me?”

She blinked at him, disoriented, then looked around in confusion. “Are we not...?”

“Tomorrow,” he said. “Instead of going straight to your hotel. Do you want to come over?”

“And do what?”

“Well, hopefully more of this,” he added with a cheeky grin, pinching her bare hip before shrugging.

“I don’t know. Nothing specific. I could show you around my place, maybe we could watch a movie or go to the park or something?

There’s a park like six minutes from my apartment with a lake and a nearby library.

You’re buying all your books, right? It would be cheaper to get a library card. ”

“I don’t do well with physical books. They tend to get beat up.”

She had used one to smack a thermy, a grave offense.

“You can borrow ebooks that you download to your e-reader.”

She studied him, trying to discern his intentions. He smiled, his hand creeping up her spine, fingers dragging lightly over her skin before settling at the nape of her neck. His touch was warm, familiar, dangerous in how easily she leaned into it.

“No ill-intentions,” he said softly. “I just want to spend more time with you.”

She wanted to say no. She should say no. But she couldn’t. Instead, she let herself sink into the warmth of him, into the steady rhythm of his breathing, into the illusion that this could be something easy.

Jonah drifted to sleep, his arm slung over her waist, his breath slow and even against her shoulder. She stayed awake, staring up at the ceiling, her chest tight.

The lingering warmth faded into an emptiness that mirrored the hollowness in her chest. With every passing moment, the intimacy of the night grew more distant, replaced by a clarity that chilled her.

Slowly, she gathered the scattered pieces of her clothes.

After a long, aching pause filled with unspoken apologies and the weight of her choices, Ruby slipped out into the corridor.