Page 10

“Nari is an interesting name,” he said, tapping his fingers on the armrest, wondering what the agent would think about sharing personal information. She’d certainly seemed to have lightened up around him, especially since the accident.

She tilted her head sideways, narrowing her brown eyes at him. “Why are you curious about my name?”

“Well, I figure you know a lot about me. I’m sure FUC pulled up every tidbit they could find. You probably even know who my first-grade teacher was. Yet, I know nothing about you.”

She eyed him with surprise before softly saying, “Nari means ‘lily’ in Korean.”

“That’s a pretty name,” he said, despite wanting to keep the thought to himself. He couldn’t help it. For some reason, being around Nari seemed to loosen his tongue.

Nari snorted. “Tell that to my grandmother. She nearly died when I wasn’t given a traditional name, like my cousin, Seo-ah.” A shy smile crossed her face. “I think Anson is an interesting name.”

“I think it’s English. I never cared enough to look up its meaning.”

She smiled at him then, and he basked in the sight. Silence settled in the cabin, with only the crackling of the fire whispering as they shared a moment together. After the frenzy of the day, it was nice to feel like all was right, even just for sixty seconds.

Nari snapped out of it first, shaking her head as the smile disappeared. She was back to business. “How are you feeling?” she asked in her usual brusque tone.

“A little better, for sure,” he replied. “Though I’m struggling to stay awake. My body desperately wants me sleeping so it can begin knitting me back together.”

“Want me to help you get to a bedroom in the back?”

The thought of having to stand up, let alone walk down the hallway, was unappealing. “I think I’ll just stay here on the couch,” he decided.

“I’ll get you an extra blanket and pillows in case you need them.

” Her eyes softened before she turned and hurried off to a closet.

It surprised him to find she had such a nurturing side.

He glanced down at the blanket nest near the wood-burning stove.

She’d made it for him to keep his shrew warm and cozy when they’d first arrived.

Nari returned with an armful of pillows and a cozy comforter.

Her satisfied smile put Anson at ease. She seemed sure he wouldn’t reject any of the items she found.

He inspected the pillows she handed him one at a time.

They didn’t seem to have come into contact with anything gross that could contaminate them. “They’re acceptable.”

He set them up, careful not to tweak anything in his body. He wouldn’t be able to sleep if he pulled a muscle. Or broke anything worse than it already was.

“Did you trust Grimm?” The question came out of nowhere, stopping Anson in the middle of fluffing his pillows. He looked over to Nari and thought she looked surprised that the words had left her mouth.

“I did, yeah,” he answered softly, though the memory of his naivety hurt.

“He’d been her doctor—Ariel’s. He went by Dr. Sampson when we met him.

We’d trusted him to help her. We trusted that he knew what he was talking about and that he was being honest with us about what was going on with Ariel.

So, when he told us that there was no more that modern medicine could do, we were heartbroken.

And when he followed that up with news that he was willing to help Ariel outside of the hospital, it was the only hope we had. ”

Nari nodded, listening carefully to every word he said.

He knew that part of her was an agent, and her job was to retrieve any intelligence on Grimm that she could.

But he also saw a layer of sympathy in her eyes.

The same one that had been there when she’d cleaned his wounds. It was that look that kept him talking.

“At first, I’d take Ariel to visit Grimm at his private clinic.

It seemed legit. Like he had private funding to run the experiments.

Ariel would donate blood samples, and he’d give her a shot or a serum and tell her to come back in a few days or a week so they could monitor any changes.

But then Ariel seemed to deteriorate. I didn’t know if it was the natural progression of the disease, but something told me the treatments had something to do with it.

I knew she wasn’t getting simple shots anymore, but she wouldn’t talk about them.

She was becoming weaker. Developing bruises all over.

She’d cry out if she bumped into anything. I…”

“You were worried about your sister,” Nari supplied. “Did you tell her not to go back to Grimm?”

“Yes, I did,” Anson said, his voice full of regret. “I said we needed to take her back to the hospital, but she refused. She went off the next day, and I knew where she’d go. But when I got to Grimm’s clinic, it was being packed up.”

“He was moving?”

“He was. But he was there, and I confronted him. He didn’t deny that Ariel had seen him that day.

In fact, he told me that I was wrong to try to poison her against him, and that’s when he told me if I ever wanted to see her again, that I’d need to do exactly as he said.

” Anson tried his best to swallow the pain he felt at the memory.

“And you believed he’d eventually let you see Ariel?”

“A part of me still does,” he admitted. “I just keep remembering the doctor who spoke with such conviction about wanting to cure my sister. All I wanted was for her to be able to live her life again. For her to not be weak and sick. And this man was selling us the dream. I blamed myself for telling Ariel to not go back to Grimm. Had I just supported her…” Would things have gone differently had he not cautioned Ariel about going back to see Grimm?

“You mean ignored the bruises? Ignored the fact that she was being made worse by the treatments?” Nari shook her head. “You did the right thing trying to talk her out of it. I’ve seen some of the results of what Grimm is doing to people. He’s hurting them, and your intuition was telling you that.”

He wasn’t about to debate her on it. No amount of discussion would convince him that he’d done the right thing.

And who knew what could’ve been different had he alerted the authorities in the beginning.

Or maybe things could have been worse. Instead of opening that can of worms, he asked her, “Do you think Grimm knows where we are?”

“If you’re that worried, I can have agents come in to set up a perimeter. I thought you wouldn’t be comfortable with that many badges in close proximity.” She narrowed her eyes at him as if trying to read his thoughts.

“One agent is one too many.” He regretted the words the second they were out of his mouth. Nari’s face crumpled as if he had struck her. “Sorry. You don’t count as an agent. We’re…friends…I think.”

“I think we are becoming friends.” A sheepish smile spread across her face, and the impish glint returned to her dark eyes.

She inhaled sharply as if she had more to say but paused, taking in Anson’s face.

A different type of smile touched the corners of her lips, turning them up slightly. “Get some sleep. I’ll keep watch.”