This is what I expected, but I don’t like the closed looks on their faces, the undisguised fear, the hostility and anger. Dylan keeps a hand on my wrist and glares around us distrustfully, like he thinks someone’s going to come up and snatch me away. “It’s okay,” I tell him, but I don’t believe that myself. They think we’re here to make them leave with us, I think, watching one woman shrink back as we pass. Or they think we’ve brought our own diseases and they’ll go through the sickness and death all over again. Or we’re just the first, and others will follow, and they’re scared. I don’t blame them. If I were them? I’d be terrified.
isn’t. I’m going to ache all night for him now, dammit the hell. “Dylan,” I sigh into his hair. “Oh God, I’m sorry.”
pissed, and I pull away from Dylan reluc
