Heart-Shaped Hack

“No, it’s fine. I was just wondering if things were better now.”


When she looked up to answer him, she noticed his eyes were a little red, as if he were tired.

And his hair was on the longer side.

He’d asked for her by name the first time he’d come in, saying he’d been referred by a friend. But he’d never mentioned the name of the person.

She held his gaze just long enough for her eyes to fill with tears, and then she glanced away. “Not yet. Maybe someday they will be. At least I hope so.” She pulled a Kleenex from the top drawer of her desk and dabbed at her eyes. “Do you have your ID with you today, Zach?”

He took one hand off his box of food and patted his pocket, and her eyes tracked his movement. A brace peeked out from the cuff of Zach’s shirt. It was the same type of brace Ian sometimes wore when his wrists became sore from spending too much time on the computer. “Left it at home again. Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” she said. “Just make sure to bring it next time.”

“I will.” He rose, hoisting the box a little higher in his arms. “I’ll see you next month. Unless I don’t need to come in.”

“Take care.”

“Thanks. You too.”

As soon as he left, she walked to the file cabinet and retrieved Zach’s intake form. She called the phone number he’d given her during the intake interview, but it wasn’t a valid number. When she put his address into Google Maps, nothing came up.

She told herself she was being paranoid. Lots of people had tired, red eyes. Lots of men let their hair grow a bit long. It would not be unusual for someone who worked in a warehouse to wear a wrist brace. New clients did ask for her by name, all the time. People didn’t always carry their IDs on them, and occasionally her clients would falsify their personal information.

But a hacker would protect his identity at all costs.

Especially one whose sole reason for visiting the food pantry had been to catch her in a lie.





CHAPTER FORTY

Kate landed in Chicago at seven, which left her with forty-five minutes to kill before her flight to Indianapolis. The phone Ian had given her pinged as she was walking down the aisle to exit the plane, and seeing his name on the screen filled her with happiness. He’d given her the time and space she needed, which had been wise of him because the longer she’d been home, the more the hurt had faded, and in its place was a feeling of persistent and aching yearning.

Ian: Cinnabon?

Kate: Thinking about it.

Ian: You should.

Kate: Not the best choice for dinner, but maybe I will.

Ian: Have some wine too. That’ll make it better.

Kate smiled, weaving her way around the passengers as she walked and typed.

Kate: Wine makes everything better. : ) Ian: How are you?

Kate: I’m okay. How are you?

Ian: I’ve been better. I miss you so much.

Kate: I miss you too.

Ian: Have you been thinking about us?

Kate: I think about us all the time.

The interaction made her feel good, and she wanted to prolong their conversation. She pictured him sitting on the couch in the guesthouse, typing out a text. After stopping at Cinnabon, she sat down at a nearby table, ignoring her cinnamon roll as she stared at her phone, waiting for him to respond and wondering why it was taking so long. She was so deep in thought that the scrape of a chair being pulled back startled her.

“Here’s what I think,” Ian said, sitting down next to her. “You are cut out for this, Kate. You’re smart and you’re fearless. I understand that being with me comes with a unique set of challenges, but I firmly believe we can overcome them.”

Kate stared at him in shock. Even if he’d left the minute he realized she was on her way to the airport, her flight was shorter than his. “How did you…?”

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