I didn’t tell Damien about Preston Vane’s call.
I examined this decision from several angles on the drive back from the hospital and arrived at a justification that was at least partially honest. If Vane had information I didn’t have, I needed to hear it without Damien’s presence filtering it. If the information was nothing, no harm was done. If it was something, I needed to know it as myself first, without an audience, before I decided what to do with it.
The part of the justification I didn’t examine too closely was the simpler one. I was afraid of what I might learn if Damien was watching my face when I learned it.
Getting to San Francisco alone required a degree of engineering. I told Damien I wanted to visit a college friend who had relocated there, someone to see while we were in
