I brace myself. I knew this was coming, and I have nothing to hide.

Besides, I'm too hungry to care about what Dante and Ashlyn think of me. They can think whatever they want as long as they keep feeding me these cinnamon rolls. After breakfast, I'm never going to see these two again, and answering a few questions is the least I can do after they gave me a place to sleep and provided me with heaven on a plate.

"I'm from Montana," I manage between bites. "I'm sure ...