It was like even her own name was something she had to guard.
Then she whispered, “Sister Elise.”
Jake nodded once. “Elise.”
He watched her hands curl into the blanket, fingers tense.
Running hands.
Hands that didn’t know how to rest.
She tried to sit up, but her body protested. Jake reached out and gently held her shoulder.
“Take it easy,” he said. “No one’s coming for you here.”
Fear flickered in her eyes—quick and sharp.
Not fear of him.
