Chapter 19Aware that he was destroying the cover of the paperback novel he’d been reading before his mother called, Wolfe pushed the book away from him on the bed and fiddled with the corner of his blanket instead.
“Are you listening?” His mother said, on the line. “You’re being really quiet, Wolfie.”
“No, I’m listening.”
“And?”
She wanted him to come home. To abandon this idea of pursuing a career in Montreal. She had a good friend of hers who could get him an interview in a private rehab clinic in Vancouver.
“I can’t,” he muttered, staring off into space. He was depressed tonight. Didn’t have it in him to argue, to state his case. “I’m needed here,” he managed to add. His mind was in a fog.
“You told me two days ago that the YBR is on the verge of being shut down and that―”
“I’m s
