Cress had once told her she needed to tell Eddie things. Words are gold dust, that’s what he’d said. So she’d told Eddie stuff, stuff that would make her toes curl now. Laid out her heart on the bed and had cut it open, a full autopsy of love. That’s what being in a hotel room could make a girl do. Sex in soft sheets and room service. Making plans. And all the time war was eavesdropping . .
