As evening fell, a thin mist rose over the canal.
Miles glanced at the sky and said, "They're showing an outdoor movie tonight, 'A Night in Velmora.' Have you seen it?"
I shook my head.
"Then you definitely should." He stood and held out his hand. "Come on."
I looked at his hand. It was broad, with well-defined knuckles, so different from Grant's. Grant's hand had always been cold to the touch, and holding it had felt like holding a precision instrument. Miles's hand, somehow, looked warm.
I did not take it, but I stood up and followed him.
The outdoor movie was being shown in front of the old bandstand. The screen rippled gently in the evening breeze.
The square was packed. Older couples sat in folding lawn chairs with paper cups of lemonade in their hands, young couples leaned int
