“I— I don't know.” The past forty-eight hours had seen me drinking plenty of coffee, but I couldn't recall eating anything since I'd left Puckhaber.
“You look like hell, Charlotte. I saw a diner a couple of miles down the road. Let's go and get something to eat and some coffee.”
We sat in a booth at the roadside diner, this late at night there were only a couple of other patrons, truckers on their way through a long haul, stopping to eat and drink. The waitress took our orders and Conal leaned back against the brown vinyl seat, eyeing me curiously. I'd poured out the whole story of what happened, not leaving out anything and even stumbling over the fact that I'd thought Holden was attacking me. When I finished, I felt the nervous energy seep from my shoulders as I waited for his response
