Chapter 27
The kitchen is cleaned, and my sacks are stuffed when James returns home from work. One bag. One lightweight suitcase. He remains in the entryway to our room, squinting as though I'm an illusion. "What's happening with you?" "I'm going with you," I say. "To Chicago?" "I purchased my ticket on the web. Same flight, even though we can't sit together." "You sure?" James inquires. "It was your thought." "Valid. It's super abrupt. Also, what might be said about Mack?" "You said yourself that we can let her be intended for a couple of days," I say. "She's not a canine, recall?" In truth, I trust she'll be gone when we return. Discreetly. Without complaint. A scorpion is in such a rush to move away from that it neglects to sting. James, in the interim, checks out the room as t
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