At the first prickles of a looming headache, I ignore it and pay attention. “—you, Mack, this will not end well,” Bennett grumbles.

I frown at my first glimpse of his soul. He’s a tight ball of emotions I’m desperate to read. But if I attempt to peel back the layers like an onion, he will feel what I’m doing and know what I am. He’s too tense and too controlled not to feel me.

What are you so desperate to hide, Bennett? And why don’t you trust me?

“And I’m telling you that ...