“And then she asked”—she took a slow breath—“if I still loved Jarod Adler.” I kept my calm, even though on the inside I was a geyser about to feathering blow. “That’s a silly question. You don’t know any boys named Jarod.” Did my voice sound as strangled as it felt? A tremor racked her small body. “Naya?” I stopped running my hand up and down her hunched spine. “What did you tell the ishim?” “I told her the only man I loved was Apa.” Good girl. “Who’s Jarod, Celeste?” “No one, honey.” “Why does his name make my heart hurt if he’s no one?” She swiped her cheek, and it was so slick with tears,
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