One of the ROOS’ laces was knotted, and no matter how Jem picked at it, he couldn’t get it undone.Probably because he wasn’t awake all the way, not yet.Probably because his eyes were still bleary.
“Fine.Go take a walk.Scipio and I will be ten yards behind, or fifty, or whatever.”
Tean hugged himself more tightly and said, “No.”
Jem gave up on the lace and shoved his foot into the shoe.For several long moments, the only sounds in the house were Scipio’s accelerated breathing and the whisper of Jem’s socks scrunching, canvas folding, the end of a lace clicking against the floorboards—the whole fucking process of jamming your foot into a shoe.
When Jem was done, Tean was staring at him, huddled inside his jacket, open defiance on his face.
“What’s going on?”Jem asked.
“Nothing—”
“Bullshit.You sneak out of the house every fucking night.What’s going on?”
“I don’t sneak!”
“Where are you going?”
“For a walk.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t sleep!”
Jem shook his head, and he heard himself do a weird not-laugh.“For fuck’s sake.”
Tean turned to ice.“I don’t know what you think is going on, but I’m leaving now.To take a walk.By myself.”
“No, you’re not.It’s not safe—”
“I’ll be fine.I’m always fine.I’m not worried about it.”
“I know you’re not worried about it!You know who’s worried about it?Me!Every time I wake up and have nofuckingidea where you are, I’m the one who has to freak out, I’m the one who doesn’t know what the fuck is going on, I’m the one who can’t breathe!”
Tean adjusted his arms around himself.The fabric of his jacket rustled.Scipio hunched, head down, gaze moving back and forth from Jem to Tean.
“Go take your fucking walk,” Jem said, and he kicked off his shoes.
Tean swallowed.And then he let himself out of the house.
27
Tean must have slept.He wasn’t sure how long the human body could go without sleep, but he knew that the effects—short- and long-term—were devastating.So, after a few hours of wandering the freezing dark, picturing all the terrible things that might have happened—mightbehappening—to Daniel, he had gone home.Jem had been on the sofa, with Scipio curled up next to him.The Lab had opened his eyes.Jem hadn’t.Tean had gone back into his room—theirroom.And he had undressed and lain in bed and waited for his alarm to go off.And at some point, he must have slept.
But in the Uber on the way to work, eyes itching, he didn’t remember sleeping.What he remembered was Jem’s face.That first, almost invisible flicker of hurt.And the anger that had followed.
The DWR building was still quiet when Tean let himself inside.In his office, he brewed his nettle tea, and he opened up his email, and he began catching up on what he’d missed.He’d only been away from work for a day, but it felt like so much longer.The number of emails waiting for him was shocking.
None of them was from Ammon.
He signed into his Offender Connect account and sent another.And when he was done, he was sweating.
He tried to focus on the messages thatwerewaiting for him.Many of them were ones that he could ignore or delete.Others he could save for later.He was sipping his tea when he came to the one from Ed.The message was a reply to the final report Tean had submitted for the depredation investigation.
Let’s talk about this.
That was it.That was all he’d written.