“Is there somewhere else I can spend the slumber?” He pauses what he’s doing, turning his head the slightest amount as he says, “Somewhere else?” Feels wrong to step into a female’s warm, homely dwelling when I’ve fantasized about killing her son. “This feels like a family space,” I murmur, taking in the artwork littering the walls. The crooked alcoves and shelves packed full of bits and pieces that can only be precious memorabilia. “I’m not family.” Kaan’s coarse growl fills the space so abruptly I jolt, stare whipping back to him as he says, “Get in the dwelling, Prisoner Seventy-Three. Or
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