MADELINE
The word hung there. Simple and direct.
My heart kicked against my ribs.
I kept my expression neutral. Kept my voice steady. "What about us?"
He stepped closer. Not too close but enough that I had to tilt my head slightly to maintain eye contact.
"I need to know something," he said. "And I need you to be honest with me."
"I am always honest with you, Cian."
"Are you?"
The question landed like a stone dropping into still water. The ripples spread out between us.
I felt something cold settle in my chest. "What are you asking me, Cian?"
"I am asking if there is anything you are not telling me." His eyes searched mine. "Anything I should know about why you are really here."
My throat tightened. "I am here because I helped your mother. Because I had nowhere else to go. You know this."
"I know what you have told me."
"And you think I am lying?"
"I think—" He stopped and he ran a hand through his hair. "I think there are things that do not add up."
"Like what?"
