38
The night is chilly, but at least the rain has stopped. I’m still wearing Daniel’s oatmeal-colored sweater and his same damp coat, but it’s only damp on the outside. Inside it’s cozy and warm. Red bounds ahead of Sarah and me, sniffing everything that’s been freshened by the rain.
Sarah threads her arm through mine. “I like you for my brother.”
“Okay,” I say with a laugh. “Thank you.”
She rests her head against my shoulder for a moment. “Do you think you’ll stay?”
“Stay? I … honestly don’t know.” And it is honest, since I’ve barely given myself the chance to think beyond these next few days.
“I know it might be difficult,” Sarah says, letting go of me so she can bury her hands in the pockets of her coat. “I can’t imagine having to pretend to be someone else for so many hours a day
