“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to be.”
“Yes, I do.”
He looked at me.
“I’m beginning to understand something.”
“What?”
“Everyone around this situation seems to have decided what other people should be allowed to know.”
The sentence settled between us.
Ethan protecting me.
Sam warning Ethan.
Adrian’s company making decisions he may never have seen.
Someone sending me a photograph.
Someone choosing what truth appeared when.
“I’m tired of that,” I said.
“So am I.”
This time, we agreed without hesitation.
Lily woke at six twenty in the morning and announced that she wanted pancakes.
Not answers.
Not financial records.
Not explanations of why her parents had stopped living together.
Pancakes.
Her hair stood in every direction.
One sock had vanished.
She sat in the middle of the hotel bed holding her rabbit and looked at me with complete faith that breakfast would happen because breakfast always happened.
