Sunday was a complete and total waste. Kinsey spent most of the night screaming, and I spent the night bargaining with the banshee in my arms who likely didn’t understand a word I said while trying to soothe her. Thankfully the old building had thick brick walls, but I knew her anguish leaked through the front door.
I just prayed it didn’t disturb the neighbors too much.
We both spent the day napping on the couch, and when the evening rolled around, happy Kinsey was back.
“I’m so glad you’re in such a good mood,” I said as I looked down at her playing on the floor. “But can you sleep tonight so I’m not dead tomorrow when I see Thane?”
It wasn’t until I said his name that I realized what I’d done. For so long, I’d simply called him Carthwright. It was formal, off-handed in a way, with n
