Lance Chase sat on the bed, his gaze fixed on me, observing me. I sank deeper into the steaming water, refusing to cry in front of him again. I thought of the commander, thought of John, and the chances of him being alive seemed minimal, which made my heart tighten even more.

“Did you kill him?” I asked him. Lance stood up and walked toward me, slowly beginning to undress. I averted my gaze and felt him entering the bathtub. My heart raced; it beat so hard it even hurt. I sank ...