Cora blinks at me, her eyes darting around in hopes of some kind of escape. Then she jolts up, almost knocking her stool back in the process. “I need to use the restroom.”
As she sprints away, I adjust my pants and consider the choice now before me: do I pretend I don’t give a damn and let her go?
Or do I follow her into the bathroom and show her exactly how much I care?
I glance at the bathroom door again and again. As if the answer to the question circling around my mind will appear there.
Just as I decide Cora has been gone too long—a whopping five minutes—and I should go after her, my phone rings.
I answer the call and squint through the front window to the dark world beyond where I know Yasha is standing guard. “What do you want?”
“I want to know if I should give you two some pr
