Julia felt both shock and worry roll into one. She lurched and helped her up, demanding, “What’s wrong, Deirdre? Why were you hiding in the closet? And God, why are you shaking so much!?”

Deirdre’s lashes were quivering. She desperately sought her voice, and when it finally came out like a leaky whisper, she exhaled, “I’m… fine…”

“Miss me with that bullsh*t! You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

Deirdre sputtered out a dry laugh. It was as if she had a brush with Death itself—and for now, she lived. “I’m fine, really. I… I just need a favor. Please, Julia.”

“W-What kind of favor?”

Deirdre closed her eyes. “Don’t ever tell anyone my name.”

“Your name?” Something larger than confusion and questioning loomed over Julia. “Why?”

Unpacking the entire complexities of her life was too grueling, so Deirdre simply replied under her breath, “I know you’re a good kid at heart, Julia, but there are some things I can’t tell you. What I can say is that I’m not a bad guy and haven’t committed any