Chapter 93
John pulled onto the shoulder, the intersection where he’d have to turn right toward the national park or left toward the village just ahead. One road curved out of sight, climbing through the mountains, sure to be be deserted in the middle of winter.
The other descended into the valley and year-round residents, ending at the pub. The pub where his conversation with Hugh had thrown all of John’s beliefs and understanding about his life into chaos that hadn’t yet begun to make sense.
He pulled up Faolin’s number on his phone, then stopped.
He wasn’t ready for that any more than he’d been ready for Branwen when he woke up. Talking to the doctor or anyone else would only make his bad mood worse.
No.
What was required here was a drive.
A long drive. A fast drive. A solitary d
