“Dusty.” Stone’s head hung down. His hands went to his hips. He’d lost his fight. I moved forward, knowing when to capitalize on the moment and I even gentled my tone, knowing it was the last and final nail in our coffin. “You’re off the hook.” His head swung back up. “Excuse me?” “Taking care of me. You said it yourself. You were doing it for her, but you’re off the hook. I’m letting you off the hook.” Another step forward, but this one hurt. It felt like I was pushing into wet cement, the kind that went to my chest. Still. I took another step, forcing myself. “I don’t know what she was
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