“Katrina?” Jas squeezed her fingers, grounding her better than any fidget stone.
She gathered herself and put on the hat that allowed her to eyeball start-ups and pick apart any BS to find their core. “To summarize, no one will be able to identify me from these photos. Even if they do, it would be almost impossible to track me to this house. Even if that somehow happens, there’s an even smaller chance there’s a bogeyman lurking out there to hurt me.” Her kidnapper had been arrested during the ransom handoff when she’d been recovered. He’d been wanted for a laundry list of crimes, and would be in prison for a long, long time. Her father was the only other person who might hold a grudge against her, and he’d been quiet since Hardeep had paid him off. Katrina kept tabs on him, and had checked in today to make sure he was still tucked away in Vancouver.
Jas’s beautiful eyebrows came together. “Right.”
She lifted her shoulder. So logical. So rational. “Right. Thank you.”
A knock came at the door, and Jas slipped his hand away from hers. Katrina had to swallow twice at the loss before she could speak. “Come in.”
Jia poked her head around the door, her forehead creased with worry. A rush of affection coursed through Katrina. While she’d been consumed by this viral phenomenon, Katrina had neglected everything else, including work and food. At some point, a messy sandwich had appeared at her elbow, and her water bottle had kept getting refilled. She had some vague recollection of Jia trying to distract her with chatty conversation. “Come in, Jia.”
“How’s everything going?” Jia asked.
“It’s . . . fine.” She shoved back from the desk. She had to . . . do something. What could she do?
Pain ran through her legs when she got up, and she wondered how long she’d been sitting in the same position. At the very least, she could move. Make something. “Gosh, look at the time. Nearly ten. Are either of you hungry? Did you eat dinner?”
“Oh, I’m fine.”
Jas shook his head. “Katrina . . .”
“Let me put something together.”
“That’s not necessary.”
It was necessary. Katrina placed her hand in her pocket, but there was no rock, because she hadn’t gotten dressed today either. No shower, no perusal of her wardrobe to decide what she felt like. No rock. Nothing to hold on to.
“I’m hungry.” Katrina scooted past Jas. Her head was a jumble of thoughts and feelings, her stomach in turmoil.
Katrina rubbed her arms as she power walked through the hallway to the kitchen, Jia and Jasvinder trailing behind her, murmuring to each other.
She opened the fridge and stared inside. Oh shoot. She’d forgotten to place a grocery order. What on earth would she make?
She swiped the back of her hand over her cheeks, though there was no wetness there. She was anxious, but that numbness from the morning continued to protect her. “How do you feel about sandwiches?”
Without waiting for an answer, she gathered up sandwich fixings and brought the goods to the counter.
Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of a movement outside the window and jumped and whirled.
“What’s wrong?” Jas crossed to the window and peered outside.
She relaxed once she realized it was a tree branch knocking against the glass. “Nothing. Sorry.”
It was awfully dark outside. And light inside. She placed her knife on the counter, then walked briskly over to the window and snapped the blinds shut. She glanced behind her with a frown. There was the sliding glass door, and she’d never put blinds over it, since it faced the backyard. Why had she bought a place with so much glass?
She’d hang a blanket there tonight. Tomorrow she’d rig up proper curtains.
By tomorrow her name might be all over the internet.
She spun around. “Jas, I yelled at Richard,” she blurted out.
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not.” She stalked back to the counter. “He startled me while he was doing his rounds, but that’s no excuse for my short temper. Is he here? I’d like to apologize. Does he have any dietary restrictions? I’ll make him a sandwich too.”
“He’s already left. You can talk to him when he’s back on shift.”
“Do you have his number? I can call him. It’s not kind to be so short-tempered. I wouldn’t want him to worry about it.”
“He won’t. Trust me, he’s fine.”
She applied mayo to a slice of bread like her life depended on it. “Okay. Thank you.”
“Why don’t you let me make the sandwiches?” Jia asked. “It’s basically the one meal I can handle.”
She gave Jia a halfhearted smile. “No, it’s fine. Jas, is grilled cheese okay?”
“I— Fine.”
“I make it with mayo, you know. That’s the secret.” She pulled out a pan and placed it on the stove. “The mayo has a high fat content and crisps the bread. It works better than butter.”
A small meow distracted her and she glanced at her feet, startled. “Zeus.” She pressed her fingers against her lips. “I’m so sorry. I completely forgot about you today.” She bent over and petted the cat. “How could I do that?”
“She’s a cat,” Jia said. “She’s probably thrilled you forgot her for a day.”
She smoothed her hand along her kitten’s back. “What a terrible cat stereotype. Zeus loves me.” Ah, there it was. A thawing of the numbness, the prickle of tears behind her eyes.
I love you, Katrina. This is all for your own good.
Katrina straightened. Her breath was coming faster, the floor wavering in her vision, her head aching.
This is your kitchen. You are safe.
“I need some air,” she managed, and the next thing she knew, she was outside, damp grass under her butt, sucking in great gulps of precious oxygen.
Jas crouched in front of her, his no-nonsense voice cutting through her panic. “Name five things.”
She closed her eyes, and opened them again. This was one of her handiest coping mechanisms. Five things she could see or hear or touch. “The grass.” It was cold.
“What else?”
“The moon. The flowers.” Jas took care of her garden, he had since they’d moved in. It was a work of art, filled with dark greenery and bright flowers, a colorful paradise. She’d told him he didn’t need to do that, it wasn’t in his job description, but he hadn’t listened. So she’d quietly increased his retirement plan contribution.
“Two more.”
She swallowed, tasting the ash of fear, but her heartbeat was returning to normal. She came to her knees. “Smoke. Trees.”
“Good.” He inhaled and exhaled slowly, and she matched his breathing without thinking.
Jia knelt next to her. “Here, drink this.”
Katrina accepted the water. “The stove—”
“You never turned it on.” Jia sat cross-legged. A flash of embarrassment ran through Katrina at Jia witnessing this, but she swallowed it. Though she wasn’t prepared to share her issues with everyone, when Jia had come to live with her Katrina had told her what to expect. This had, frankly, been nothing.
She shuddered, though the cool air was nice. She took a sip of the water, letting it wet her parched throat.