“When you were hurt and desperate and nearly dead, you came looking for Harper. You literally fell through my door and bled all over my carpet. You shouldn’t be shocked that she came looking for you.” I look at Grey. “Is that true?” I whisper, softer than thought. “Yes.” He looks at me. “I had no other choice.” Just as he believes that Harper had no other choice. He doesn’t even need to say it. I can feel it in his words. “She helped you,” I say, and it’s not even a question. “Yes,” says Grey. His gaze is steady on mine. “Harper helps anyone who needs it.”
