“Do you think we’ll survive this?” she asks softly, like she’s commenting on the weather.
I don’t answer. Not because I don’t want to. I just don’t know how.
She nudges my arm lightly. “If you could get out of here,” she says, voice quieter now, “what would you do?”
I let out a slow breath, staring out into the dark. I still don’t answer. I can’t.
She huffs a small, humorless laugh. “Okay. I’ll go first.”
The cigarette rests between her fingers as she tilts her head back against the wall, eyes drifting somewhere far away.
“I think…” she starts, then pauses like she’s testing the words before allowing them free. “I’d want to be an actress. It was always my dream.” A faint smile ghosts across her lips. “I’d marry someone…handsome. Probably an actor. Someone kind and beautiful on the inside.”
My lips twitch, almost into a small smile.
Her voice softens. “And I’d have a daughter.”
My chest tightens, and I glance at her. “Yeah?”
She nods, staring out at the trees beyond the doorway like she can already see it. “Yeah. I’ve always wanted one.”
“What would you name her?”
She doesn’t hesitate this time. “Rose,” she says quietly.
I watch her for a second. “Why Rose?”
Her lips curve, but it’s sad. “Because they grow in impossible places. Through concrete, through cold…through anything. And they’re still…” She trails off, shaking her head slightly. “Beautiful. Soft. Even after everything.”
I look back out into the dark, the cigarette burning between my fingers.
“What about you?” she asks after a moment. “What would you do?”
I swallow, jaw tightening. “I’d take it back,” I say.
She turns her head slightly. “Take what back?”
“My life.” The words come out rough. “The one that got stolen from me.”
I stare straight ahead, barely seeing anything in front of me.
“I’d go back to before all of this. Before Nolan. Before…” I cut myself off, shaking my head once. “I’d take it all back and actually live it.”
Adriana doesn’t say anything. She just leans her head lightly against my shoulder. We sit there like that, passing the cigarette back and forth, the cold air creeping in around us, both of us staring out at a world that feels impossibly far away.
Chapter twenty-nine
MICAH PRESCOTT
Fuck. I reread the texts Jude sent me, thumb scrolling up and down like the words might change if I look at them enough times. They don’t.
You have no idea who you’re messing with.
I know exactly who he plans to sell her to if you keep poking around.
He’s a bad fucking man, Micah.
If you show up, I will kill you myself. All of you.