where I purchased both Midnight Dawns and Requiem for Mayhem, the first two sequels to The Price of Dawn,
and then I walked over to the huge food court and bought a Diet Coke.
It was 3:21. I watched these kids playing in the pirate-ship indoor playground while I read.
There was this tunnel that these two kids kept crawling through over and over and they never seemed to get tired,
which made me think of Augustus Waters and the existentially fraught free throws.
Mom was also in the food court, alone, sitting in a corner where she thought I couldn’t see her,
eating a cheesesteak sandwich and reading through some papers.
Medical stuff, probably. The paperwork was endless. At 3:32 precisely, I noticed Kaitlyn striding confidently past the Wok House.
She saw me the moment I raised my hand, flashed her very white and newly straightened teeth at me, and headed over.
She wore a knee-length charcoal coat that fit perfectly and sunglasses that dominated her face.
She pushed them up onto the top of her head as she leaned down to hug me.
“Darling,” she said, vaguely British. “How are you?” People didn’t find the accent odd or off-putting.
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