I knew better.
Still, I played along.
Millie deserved one meal where she did not have to feel the tension between us.
Her pancakes arrived buried beneath strawberries and a mountain of whipped cream. She gasped as though the waitress had placed treasure in front of her, then immediately offered me the first bite.
I accepted it.
Havoc watched us without complaint.
The clock above the counter read ten seventeen when we sat down. I checked it again after Millie finished telling me about a book she had started at school.
Ten forty-two.
Twenty-five minutes.
My heartbeat stumbled.
Havoc never lost track of time. Usually, he began reminding me how much remained before half of it had passed. Ten minutes. Five. Two. He treated every second with Millie as something borrowed from him.
Now
