Twenty-Seven
Ghost from the Past
Wes and I agree to meet at the same coffee shop as last time. I wasn’t going to bring Finan along, not wanting to drag him into this any deeper, but when he showed up in my room this morning with a breakfast tray—bagel slathered in fresh butter, a yogurt-and-berry parfait, steaming coffee—I realized he’s in this already.
Having him near makes me stronger. Makes me feel less alone, like there is one person left on the planet I can trust. And his mother is so kind, packing a picnic bag full of nonperishable snacks for our day, in case we get busy and don’t have time to stop for lunch. Eileen Rowleigh is basically the nicest human on the planet. No wonder she and Catrina have become fast friends.
As Finan drives us along the Vancouver streets, I am bombard
