He felt the whisper of her breath against his forehead, then the press of her lips, so gentle against his skin, and he felt certain now, unequivocally, that he was dreaming. “I’ll be here,” she said. “I’m not going anywhere.” Then, softer, her lips grazing the curve of his ear: “You can’t lie to me forever, Cyrus. I’m going to find out the truth about you, and when I do, I promise you this: I’ll ruin him. I’ll make the devil regret the day he was born.”
