I went to the fridge and stared inside, wondering if he’d judge me for having a glass of wine. I poured one anyway. “Would you like a drink?” I asked.
“No, thank you.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.
I watched as his eyes flicked methodically around the room, then out the window to the driveway. There were three other armed guards outside, but I’d noticed Ellis still periodically did a perimeter scan.
My thoughts wandered over the day, pausing for a moment on the embarrassment of crying during yoga. Jesus. I’m such a mess. I allowed myself a shudder, then moved on. Missing my husband wasn’t a weakness—it was human to mourn him, and I refused to punish myself for it. I’d been suffering enough.
I thought back on the conversation I’d had with Hannah after class. What she’d proposed had surprised me, and my immediate gut reaction was a hard no. License my technology to the woman who’d killed my husband? And then reverse-engineer a hack to ruin it? Hannah was asking me to play with fire, a fire that could consume the rest of what remained of my family.
I couldn’t take that risk. But was it riskier to do nothing and leave my family vulnerable?
“I’m sorry,” Ellis said, interrupting my train of thought, “but what are you thinking about?”
“What?” I startled, having forgotten he was standing there. He’d never asked me a question before.
“The look on your face… Can I help?”
I sighed. I was leaking so much that even my monosyllabic bodyguard had noticed. “I’m just trying to figure something out, and I don’t know what the answer is. Normally, that’s not a problem for me.” Making good decisions had always been easy for me, a point of pride. But for the moment, I felt lost.
“If you need to talk about it, you can. I might not be able to help, but I can at least listen.”
“Thank you.” I swirled my wine around, wondering if he’d find me even more ridiculous if I spoke further.
I took another sip of Fumé blanc for courage. “Hannah had an idea about how to deal with Li Na Zhao. She suggested that I let Protocol license the antibody therapy to her, then compromise the technology, so it doesn’t perform. So it malfunctions.” It seemed dangerous to say it out loud.
Ellis nodded, waiting for me to continue.
“I think it’s a good idea—maybe the only shot I have for a preemptive strike. I don’t know if I want to do it, but only because I’m afraid Li Na will come after us. That she’ll…” I couldn’t say it aloud. I thought of Katie and Quinn sleeping safely in their room, and I felt sick.
“I can’t tell you what to do with your business, but I’ll protect you and the girls. No matter what. I won’t let anyone hurt you. You don’t have to include your fear as a factor.”
I looked at his massive form, touched. “I know you’re very good at your job, but can you actually promise that?”
“It’s the only thing I can promise.”
“Thank you.” I didn’t know if his assurance was enough, but it was something.
Ellis nodded again, and I sensed the conversation was over.
“Well, good night.” I paused at the door. “Do you sleep?”
He’d been with me for over a week, and he’d barely taken time off. I’d been so consumed with grief and anxiety, I hadn’t even wondered if he was taking care of himself.
“Less than I talk.”
I might’ve imagined it, but I thought he smiled. At least a little.
* * *
HANNAH
I scowled at Dr. Karen, the therapist, as I sat on the couch. She arranged a long box at eye level in front of me. It had a row of small lightbulbs running across it horizontally.
“What is that thing?”
She tucked a corkscrew curl behind her ear and plugged the box in. “It’s a light box. I’m going to use it to help alleviate your negative thoughts.”
I crossed my legs and bounced my knee nervously. “I don’t think I have any negative thoughts.”