Chapter 17
“Why do you keep looking out the window like that?” she asked me. Her voice cracked like thin ice under a heavy boot. She was sitting on my living room couch with a blanket wrapped around her and a steaming mug of hot toddy in her hands. The street looked empty, the Pho restaurant didn’t seem to have any customers. Maybe no one had seen her on my doorstep, maybe no one had seen her come upstairs. Just maybe.
“The real question is how you figured out where I live,” I said.
She stiffened and sat up a bit. Sniffed to hold back the tears a little.
“You sound mad...” she said. Like a kid scared of getting in trouble.
“I guess I don’t have any right to be mad,” I said. “I don’t even know you. I’m not even sure what your real name is. Jackie or Kelly or...?”
“Kelly Kohl, K-O-H-L,
