LIAM'S POV
The Spot hadn't changed. Same cracked red vinyl booths, same smell of fried onions and weak coffee. Sasha was already in the back booth, two steaming mugs between her. She smiled when she saw me. It was a practiced thing.
"Liam. You came." She gestured to the seat opposite. "I got you coffee. Black, right?"
"Right." I slid in, keeping my jacket on. "You said it was important."
"I saw you on the news," she said, wrapping her hands around her mug. "My mom called me. She goes, 'Sasha, isn't that your Liam on the TV?' I almost choked." She shook her head, her dark hair swinging. "I didn't know you were back in town. It's been what, three months since you just... left?"
"About that." I didn't touch the coffee. "Why are we here, Sasha?"
She leaned forward, her voice dropping to
