But Eleanor had not protected me so I could hand myself over all over again.

“Trent,” I said, “Eleanor’s will says I live here alone for seven years, or I lose all of it. If I let you stay, I risk everything. You understand?”

His expression dropped. “I do. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“I’m not finished.” He raised his head. “There’s a man named Pruitt who runs the marina at the far end of the lake. His dockhand quit last month. Hard work, long hours, low pay, and there’s a room over the boat shed.

I’ll put in a word. But this is not me rescuing you. This is me showing you where a door is. Whether you walk through it is on you.”

He watched me for several seconds.