Better yet, if I want to forestall those, I need to be in my car right now, hot on the tail of a black Mercedes.
So explain to me why I’m hesitating?
I take one step toward the door. My car awaits.
I’ve made a great many choices in my life that I should have made differently. I made some of them at fifteen and some of them at twenty-five and one of them, the most recent, three weeks ago when I told Afon that I could still do this job for him.
That’s the question: Which choice here will I regret? To go or to stay?
Through the wall, Cass’s sobbing has gone quiet.
My ribs hurt. I press the heel of my hand against them, low along the right side, where the damaged nerve has decided to start its evening symphony several hours early.
The pain is the same pain I felt in my office when I ope
