Chapter Twenty-Six
Damon doesn’t exactly agree I can come, but he does change his plans.
Instead of immediately making the two-hour drive from the small airstrip to the asylum, alone, he rides with our entourage to a small bed and breakfast, the kind with quilts thrown over the sofas and a long-haired cat staring at us moodily from the carpeted stairs.
An older woman greets us at the door, her smile fading when she takes us in.
Hiro steps forward. “We spoke on the phone a few minutes ago.”
The woman attempts to recover, but she can’t quite meet anyone’s eyes. “Yes, of course. I’m so glad you called. We have three rooms available. I hope that will be all right.”
“We’ll make it work,” Hiro says, her voice brusque.
“Thank you,” I offer, knowing the woman is a little afraid. Her instinc
