Carter doesn’t say anything to me on our creaky descent down to the first floor and out of Ash’s apartment.

That’s good, because I don’t know what words are supposed to float past my lips.

I hate being seen as weak, and that’s exactly what I’d become up there, in front of everyone. In front of Ben. The worst part is, I don’t know why this case is becoming all-consuming, or why Ryan Delaney’s spirit haunts my soul in ways no client, nor boss, no lawyer, has ever weighed upon me.

I haven’t even seen pictures of him. Other associates barreled into his public school files, which couldn’t be deleted, and found his pre-school picture. The pre-victim, the happy boy with the healthy, whole family.

I didn’t want to see it, because there is too much Lily in my life for it ever to be okay to scrape over the facts of a child-related crime.

There it is. I’m worried. Terrified that by caring for a baby, I’ve made myself wounded prey in a cage full of hungry apex predators. And one of those feral creatures is Mike, my now ex-fiancé, a man I guess I never truly knew. Yet, I still wear his ring.

We’re outside, and I’m in the middle of thumbing my phone to call a car, when Carter speaks.

“You’ve got a tough case you’re working on.”

I briefly look up. “It’s nothing I can’t get over.”

Carter does a quick jig on the pavement, keeping warm. She didn’t bring a coat with her to walk me out, and even though I didn’t ask her to escort me, I’m pretty sure I’m a jerk for making her wait outside.

“C’mon, let’s go back into the hallway and wait,” I say.

We step inside into a small corridor, low-lit with a lot of exposed brick. Asher’s place is a converted warehouse, and while there are a lot of luxuries, there are still a few quaint original touches. Like no doorman, or lobby, or any public area, really, with proper heating.

“What is it about this one that has you so upset?” Carter persists, but it’s gentle.

Maybe it’s her kind voice, instead of the gruff, blunt arguments I’m used to hearing, that has me mellowing, so I admit, “There’s a child. He survived, but he’s been hidden. And my boss wants me to flush him out.”

Carter nods, but her eyes, normally a shining gold, have darkened. “And you’ve figured out a way.”

“Maybe. I haven’t told anyone, because I don’t know if I want to do it. And that scares me. I’ve never second-guessed successful decisions. Ever. But there’s something about this boy…”

I rest a hand on my forehead, closing my eyes for a few precious seconds.

“Lily.” Carter comes forward, resting a hand on my upper arm. “Locke isn’t the only one she’s healing.”

I drop my hand. “Healing? Who says I need fixing?”

Carter angles her head. “You know, every time I saw you before tonight, you used to play with your engagement ring. Spin the diamond around, feel the ridges as you spoke, rest it against your lips as you thought. These past few times I’ve seen you, you haven’t touched it.”

I glance at her through slits of vision. Sometimes, I don’t enjoy how perceptive she’s becoming. It’s like she’s starting to know me well, and I’m not sure how I feel about another woman recognizing my every flaw. “I’ve been stressed.”

“Mike hasn’t been around.”

“Oh, not you, too.”

“Astor, I’m not them.” Carter raises her chin in the direction of the floors above us. “I’m not going to dismiss what’s going on. You’re either fighting with Mike or you’ve broken up, and neither are wonderful scenarios. You’re hurting. Please, talk to me.”

“I…” I shake my head.

Carter sighs. “Fine. If you won’t talk to me about it, then I’m going to have to go to Plan B. And you’re not going to like it.”

I back away suspiciously.

“I’m going to hug you.”

“It’s really not necess—” Too late. Her surprisingly strong arms are around me, and despite the bulk of my coat, she’s got a good, boa constrictor grip.

Thankfully, she doesn’t hold it for long. She squeezes for about the length it takes for me to soften and submit to her concern, before she lets go.

“One thing I hated when my best friend, Paige, died,” she says, “is the amount of people saying ‘I’m here for you if you need me.’ The sentiment was there, obviously, but it was so clear that people didn’t know what to say after that. And they have no idea what an empty promise it is. Did they think I was going to call them up and say ‘I need you here for me?’ No. I felt alone, adrift, and was afraid to call anyone, because I didn’t want to depress them or make them more uncomfortable than they already were.”

My car’s pulling up outside, but I look back at Carter. She’s hitting notes in my memory like a conductor drawing out the crescendo in his orchestra.

“My one remaining friend, Sophie, she was different,” Carter says. “Every morning, she’d send me a text and say I’m downstairs with two cups of coffee. Come visit whenever you’re ready. I’ll wait for a few hours. If you don’t come, that’s okay, too. But I’ll be here tomorrow. And the next day. I’ll wait for however long you need.”

Carter’s eyes are shining, this time with bittersweet tears.

“So, this is what I’m going to say to you,” Carter continues. “Tomorrow, I’m going to have lunch around your office for an hour or two. You can take a break, come meet me if you want.”

“I might be busy—”

“If you can’t, that’s okay, too, Astor.” Carter smiles. “I’ll wait for however long you need.”

My lips are moving, but I don’t know what to say. No one has ever given me this kind of offer before, of patience. A willingness to accept my personality for what it is, but be available anyway.

“Thank you, Carter,” I say, and mean it. I head to the clear glass door to exit.

“You’re welcome.”

I pause at the threshold, my hand on the glass, pushing the door open and letting in an ice-driven wind, but I say to her through the chill, “My mom.”

Carter’s brows rise, probably jarred by the fact that I’m creaking open the door to my soul, just a little. “Yeah?”

“When it comes up in conversation, that she’s dead…I’m so tired of making other people feel okay that they haven’t lost theirs.”

Carter’s lips part with a gentle smile. “You never have to do that with me. Tell me all of it. Every painful, sad, grief-stricken detail, and I won’t ever make you feel bad for it.”

I give a closed mouth, tentative smile back. I wave goodbye, and turn and shove my beanie on my head before she can see any tracks of water down my face.