58
She is sitting on the curb. The same curb where Christine and Olga and I stood hours ago.
“I was afraid to leave,” Halli tells me. “I was afraid you couldn’t find me again. But you’re here!”
Anyone watching right now will see a young woman hugging herself and laughing and bouncing up and down. And I don’t care. Halli doesn’t care, either. Caring is for people with boring, ordinary lives.
“Is Red all right?” Halli asks. “Please tell me he survived.”
“He’s fine,” I say. “He’s with me. He’s with me all the time.”
Halli closes her eyes and sighs. “Thank you.” She reaches over and picks up my laptop from where it’s sitting beside her on the curb. “I only ran inside for a second to get this. You have wi-fi out here. I know all about that now.”
She hits Enter—no sweeping or poking, just
