“He found me standing by the roadside, and I suppose I must have looked utterly forlorn because he jumped out as the cab parked up and he hurried over. “Milja—what’s happened?” “My father’s dead,” I said in a flat voice. He put his hands on my shoulders. “I’m so sorry.” “They say it’s my fault.” “What?” His hands tightened. I liked that grip of his—it felt like I was going to blow away among the litter without something to anchor me. “I need to get away from here,” I told him. “All right so. Oka...y. Get in.” He opened the curbside back door for me and then went round to the other side. The taxi driver looked at us both in the rearview mirror, and I hoped Egan wouldn’t ask me what had happened. Not in front of a stranger. “Where do you want to go?” Egan asked me. “Have you got a hotel?” I shook my head. I’d spent the last two nights sleeping on chairs in the hospital. No wonder I ached all over. “Friends?” “No.” I shook my empty, useless head, feeling my shoulders drop as I added, knowing it sounded childish but unable to stop myself, “I want to go home to Boston.”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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