I remembered hearing that Felicia used to ride horses for shows, and I could imagine it—with the white pants, gloves, sophisticated boots, and a riding helmet with the strap secured under her chin. She gave off a prestigious Hamptons air.

I never spoke to them. They never spoke to me. They never even looked my way. There I had been, the girl their son/brother had saved and the reason he was going to prison.

Seeing them now at his side, my insides were a mess. The storm that I had been trying to ignore was threatening to spill to the surface again. I was going to lose it. Even now, the hair on the back of my neck stood up. I felt I was being watched, just like back then.

“Jo.” Erica’s voice broke through, and she took the bottle of wine from my hands.

No, make that an emptied bottle of wine. I’d drunk that whole thing while glaring down at Kian’s press release.

“What?” I asked her.

She held the bottle out to the waiting server and asked me, “Do you want another bottle…or maybe not?”

Wanker tugged at his shirt collar. “I think we should have champagne next.”

Erica’s eyes lit up, and like that, I was off the hook.

She clapped her hands together. “Champagne! Yes, please.” She turned to the server. “Two bottles. I’ll pay with my cr—”

“You will not.” Wanker’s hand jerked out, but it wasn’t steady.

He was reaching for the credit card Erica was handing to the server. Instead of hitting it down to the table, he had some extra oomph, and it fell to the floor instead. The redness from his face and neck spread to his hands now.

He winced. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

Erica shot him a confused look before hopping off her stool to grab her card.

When she straightened back up, Wanker said, “Put it all on my tab.” When the server left, he said to Erica, “I gave them my card already. This is your night.”

“My night?” She gestured to me. “We’re all drowning our sorrows tonight.”

The two started a debate about if we were celebrating or not that night, when Jake leaned closer. “Hey, uh…are you okay? You don’t seem like your normal self.”

I almost started laughing. He didn’t know my normal self. No one did.

As Jake was waiting for my answer, I couldn’t look away from the most recent image of Kian on the screen. His dark hair had been cut down, almost as a crew cut. He seemed even leaner and fitter than what he had been before going in. Everything about him emanated power. He looked strong. He was always athletic, but this was more. I saw it in his eyes. They could always see through me. I never noticed before it had happened, but every time he’d looked at me in the courtroom, it was the same thing. He knew me. Somehow, he could see inside of me. I felt it again, but there was an edge to him. He was like a feral animal that had been leashed.

As Jake’s dark eyes stared back at me, I felt him talking to me. I felt him saying to me that they didn’t know the only me that mattered—the broken me. They didn’t know the me that only he seemed to know.

“Yeah,” I forced out. “I’m fine. Just had a bad exam, that’s all.”

Kian’s face was everywhere so I went back into hiding. Erica invited me to get sushi with her and Wanker the next night, but I stayed home. If I didn’t go out, I couldn’t see his face plastered on magazines and newspapers. He was on my email site, so I used my phone to check emails. I wouldn’t have to see the ads or news then. It was dumb and maybe a little immature, but I still wanted to hide.

The media speculation about where I had gone would spark up again. It was only a matter of time. And my small sanctuary lasted until Sunday morning when that phone rang. It wasn’t my cell phone. It wasn’t the landline that Erica had insisted we get. It wasn’t her cell phone. There was only one other phone in the apartment, and only I knew who was on the other line.

I didn’t say anything when I accepted the call. I didn’t need to. The other person said, “Mel’s Diner. One hour.” They hung up, and the hope I’d had of remaining hidden was gone.

That phone had been given to me by a federal agent who was assigned to me. The case drew enough national attention the FBI were called in, and when everything was done, he helped me hide and start a new life.

When I got to the diner, he was in the back booth, reading a newspaper. Kian’s face was plastered on the front, staring at me as I made that trek past the few other diners. Our booth was set far apart from the others and as I slid into my side, he folded the newspaper down. Kian’s face was on the outside, staring up at me.

I sighed. I’d never get away from him.

“Long weekend?”

I shot him a look. “Not funny, Snark.”

He laughed, but there was no smile or grin on his face. His entire face remained stone-like.

I wasn’t joking when I called him Snark. That was his last name. He had introduced himself to me three years ago as Agent Snark. I’d asked one time if it was a nickname.

He’d looked at me, deadpan, and responded, “Why would I joke about my name?”

That was the last of that conversation, and he’d been Snark ever since.

He took off his reading glasses now and inspected my face, taking his time with his perusal. He finally said, “You look different.”

“You told me to look different.”

“You lost weight?”

“I gained twenty pounds.”

I was inspecting him, too, but he looked the same—graying brown hair and eyes that still looked dead. I knew they were blue, but the flat look he had in them outweighed any color they might’ve had. He just had dead eyes to me. His skin was wrinkled, showing signs of aging. He kept himself trim, like he had back then, but I saw the wedding ring was gone from his hand. I bit the inside of my lip. There was no way I could ask him what had happened, if he’d divorced or if he was a widow. Snark did not share information—ever.

He asked now, “You’re healthy?”

“I didn’t go to the gym before. I do now.”

“Good. That’s a new habit then.”

“I also drink coffee now.” I used to drink tea before.

“That’s good, too.” He asked, “Boyfriend?”

“How’s that your business?”

He didn’t answer me. I should’ve known he wouldn’t, so I reached for a napkin and started to shred it piece by piece, but he took it from me. He slid it to the side, and I remembered—new habits. That was an old one.

I shook my head. “No boyfriend.”

“Not even that Jake guy?”

“How did you…” He was FBI. “Have you been watching me the whole time?”

“Since he was released, yes.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Tell me about this Jake guy. What’s he like?”

“Why?”

“Because he wants to see you.”

That halted everything. I had guessed, but hearing it made the floor open up beneath me. “Are you serious?”

“As a bullet to my forehead.” His eyes narrowed, still studying me. “Now, tell me about this Jake guy.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s new. Your other friends are not. Erica. That kid nicknamed Wanker, and by the way, I’d like to know how he got that nickname.”

“For my file?”

“No.” He grinned. “For my own enjoyment, but that’s not important right now. Start reporting. Get on with it.”

“No.” My friends weren’t new. “I moved in with Erica this year. I was in the dorms my first two years, and my roommates were assigned. Jake’s not new either, and I’m not spending time with him anymore.”

“You spoke to him yesterday and again last evening.”

“Wha—” My head was swimming. “Jake hung out with us last night. That’s it, and it won’t be a recurring thing. I dated him briefly in December. It ended when he decided to go back to his previous girlfriend. I don’t understand why any of this is important. Am I in danger? Does Kian want revenge on me or…” Nothing was making sense. “What is going on?”