Over time, we began to talk. First about time and books, then about the truths we had both tried to escape.
Grant had been a detective in Chicago. He uncovered a corruption case involving his partner, but the evidence backfired. His career and reputation were ruined, and the attack that led him to the restaurant was meant to silence him.
“I lost everything,” she told me one night. “I thought running away was my only option.”
“Perhaps we’re both running.”
Grant studied me.
“I’ve finished running. Have you?”
For the first time, I realized I wasn’t hiding from Kyle anymore. I was building a life that had nothing to do with him.
“No,” I replied. “I’m going to start over.”
Our friendship deepened gradually. Grant repaired Aunt May’s porch railing, replaced broken locks, and installed motion-sensor lights without making me feel helpless. He never tried to control my decisions. He simply stood by me as I made them.
