Her voice is barely a whisper when she asks, “Do you trust me?” In theory, it’s a simple question with a simple answer. But trust is the most complicated belief in my world of black and white. If most people asked the question, it’d be an easy no, but with Indy, after only weeks of knowing her, the answer is undoubtedly, “Yes.” Looking over at her, her expression is soft, hopeful. “What?” She shakes her head. “Nothing. I just know how big that is coming from you.” I stroke the back of her hand with my thumb as I turn my body to face her, the only remaining space between us is where our
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