and placed it on the stove. “The mayo has a high fat content and crisps the bread. It works better than butter.”
A small meow distracted her and she glanced at her feet, startled. “Zeus.” She pressed her fingers against her lips. “I’m so sorry. I completely forgot about you today.” She bent over and petted the cat. “How could I do that?”
“She’s a cat,” Jia said. “She’s probably thrilled you forgot her for a day.”
She smoothed her hand along her kitten’s back. “What a terrible cat stereotype. Zeus loves me.” Ah, there it was. A thawing of the numbness, the prickle of tears behind her eyes.
I love you, Katrina. This is all for your own good.
Katrina straightened. Her breath was coming faster, the floor wavering in her vision, her head aching.
This is your kitchen. You are safe.
“I need some air,” she managed, and the next thing she knew, she was outside, damp grass under her butt, sucking in great gulps of precious oxygen.
Jas crouched in front of her, his no-nonsense voice cutting through her panic. “Name five things.”
She closed her eyes, and opened them again. This was one of her handiest coping mechanisms. Five things she could see or hear or touch. “The grass.” It was cold.
“What else?”
“The moon. The flowers.” Jas took care of her garden, he had since they’d moved in. It was a work of art, filled with dark greenery and bright flowers, a colorful paradise. She’d told him he didn’t need to do that, it wasn’t in his job description, but he hadn’t listened. So she’d quietly increased his retirement plan contribution.
“Two more.”
She swallowed, tasting the ash of fear, but her heartbeat was returning to normal. She came to her knees. “Smoke. Trees.”
“Good.” He inhaled and exhaled slowly, and she matched his breathing without thinking.
Jia knelt next to her. “Here, drink this.”
Katrina accepted the water. “The stove—”
“You never turned it on.” Jia sat cross-legged. A flash of embarrassment ran through Katrina at Jia witnessing this, but she swallowed it. Though she wasn’t prepared to share her issues with everyone, when Jia had come to live with her Katrina had told her what to expect. This had, frankly, been nothing.
She shuddered, though the cool air was nice. She took a sip of the water, letting it wet her parched throat.
Jia leaned against her side, giving her comfort. “Do you want to go back inside?”
Katrina looked at the house. It had been her haven for so long, the place where she’d felt safe and sound.
This wasn’t about the house. This was about her identity. She’d had no idea how much safety she’d derived in staying anonymous. “I’ll stay out here for a moment, thanks.”
Jas also joined them on the ground. He was dressed in crisp dark jeans and a gray Henley, the lines of his beard extra sharp. Had he gone somewhere today? She vaguely recalled Gerald delivering a message in the afternoon that Jas would be absent until later in the evening, but she’d been too preoccupied to pay attention, even to news about Jas.
He linked his arms around his knees like he had all the time in the world. “What do you want, Katrina?”
Wow, what a question. Where to start?
I want to not have been under my father’s thumb until I was twenty-four.
I want him to have not used my condition against me.
I want to not have been kidnapped all those years ago.
She bit back the bitter answers and answered him honestly. “I want to run away.”
Jas nodded. “Where can you go where you will feel safe?”
The words didn’t have a single ounce of mockery in them. It was a simple, soft query.
Still, she inhaled. Where could she go? This was the only property she owned, the only one she’d bothered to buy. Hardeep had left her with substantial cash, but he’d deeded all his other properties to his extended family and charity and she hadn’t quibbled with that. He’d been more than generous to a girl he’d married out of kindness.
Ten places.
Her goal for a while now. She thought of the ten places she felt comfortable going to, all eating or working establishments in the city. She couldn’t very well go sleep at the pho place. A hotel would mean strangers all around her, and that wouldn’t help.
She accessed her mental fear ladder, her hierarchy of things that scared her. Getting on a plane? Ugh. No, that was outside of her abilities.
She looked to the east, where her house hid her driveway. She could get