Chapter 28

Give it another year or two, Sally thought with displeasure, holding on to her green and white paper cup decorated with a popularized image of Diana or Tiamat, and this mall, like so many others, would be another Westfield.

Ahead of her, Charlie turned away from the window with its view of Bristol Park, one hand holding their own paper cup, and above them both, some song that she half remembered from the radio played la-la-la-la-la, la-la, la-la-lain a loop, the faint recollection of a woman stepping into water in her expensive Christian Louboutin shoes.

“So, I’m guessing you didn’t want me to skip school just to buy me hot chocolate, right?” Charlie remarked with a mischievous grin.

Sally looked marginally flustered yet quickly recovered.

“Your dad said you were going through some things, and I thought you might need someone to talk to.”

Charlie’s expression changed with such swiftness that she was momentarily taken aback.