Page 248 - My FlipBook

L IS A J. L A W R E N C E

Ash watched her face, a heavy silence between them.
Then he nodded, wiping his hands on his dusty T-shirt. “Okay.
See you in a bit.” He looked away. She knew he’d never say
“pick me” or plead or pressure, but she saw his hurt expres-
sion when he didn’t snap it to neutral fast enough. It was
supposed to be her and him looking out for each other, the
only sure thing out of 7.5 billion people. She hadn’t forgotten.
Riding in the van with Roger, Greta watched him sing

along to country songs. Wall up. She didn’t sing with him—
a guilty pleasure she wouldn’t admit to under torture. He
tapped his thumbs against the steering wheel and missed
every high note. Seeing him happy, Greta wondered what
he’d said to Patty the last time they spoke. Maybe someday
she’d be ready for— even find satisfaction in—that conversa-
tion. At this point, any thoughts of Patty just reinforced those ADVANCE READING COPY

hefty bricks between her and Roger.
Roger took Anthony Henday Drive to north Edmonton
and weaved through a residential area. They drove down
narrow streets, a mixture of older homes and new infill.
He pulled up in front of a bungalow with light yellow siding,
white trim and a flower bed full of dead, soggy plants by the
front porch. The front lawn was a neat rectangle.
“Home sweet home,” Roger said, swinging his legs out of
the driver’s seat.

Greta followed him onto the front porch and waited while
he dug out the key. The house reminded her of Elgin’s, only
newer and without ferns. In the living room, a large picture
window overlooked the front lawn. She mentally positioned

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