Page 55 of Romancing in Rot

“Nope.”

“Mom.”

I sigh. “Your face is too observant before breakfast.”

She leans forward, suspicious. “Did something happen?”

“Maybe.”

Her eyes narrow.

I lift a finger. “And that is all you’re getting before you brush your teeth.”

She groans and flops back against the seat. “Not fair.”

“Healthy boundaries, sweetheart.”

“I don’t think that’s a thing in this world anymore.”

“You sound like Joanie.”

Her laugh comes small and sleepy, but it warms the inside of the car.

I climb back in and pull her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Joanie snores behind us in the backseat, one arm dangling off the seat, mouth open like she’s losing a fight with gravity.

Poppy and I sit there wrapped in the stale warmth of the car, watching camp wake through fogged glass.

“Mom?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you’re smiling again.”

I rest my cheek against the top of her head. “Me too.”

Poppy breathes against my shoulder. “We’re going to be okay, right?”

The letter rests snug against my hip.

“Yeah, sweetie,” I say, watching the pale morning stretch across the road ahead. “We’re going to fight like hell to be.”

A week ago, the thought of seeing Russ again might have hollowed me out completely. Maybe it still does a little. My leg aches at the scar as if it remembers his gun before the rest of me can. Fear still knows the shape he left behind. The drop at his name. The arguments my mind starts preparing for a man who isn’t even in front of me.

But this morning, something else answers first.

Not fear.

Fury.

I actually hope I see Russ.

Because I would love nothing more than to give him a taste of what he mistook for weakness.

There’s a storm coming, Chicago.

And I’m going to make it rain.

ELEVEN