Page 226 of Bend

At least she hasn’t disappeared somewhere.

I grab the food and knock once before letting myself in.

“Pretty girl?”

“Living room.”

Her voice sounds normal enough that I immediately don’t trust it.

I find her sitting cross-legged on the floor with Wolfe’s old hoodie hanging over her hands, the guitar across her lap and a notebook spread open beside her. The pages are covered in crossed-out lines, arrows, rewrites, words written so hard the pen nearly cut through the paper.

I hold up the takeout bag as I walk into the living room.

“I brought lunch.”

Echo glances at it, then back at the notebook in her lap.

“Thanks, but I already ate.”

I stop beside the coffee table and look at her.

She lasts maybe two seconds before her eyes flick up to mine.

“What?”

“What did you eat?”

Her mouth opens, then closes again.

I wait.

She sighs. “Coffee.”

“That is not food.”

“There was cream in it.”

I stare at her.

She gives me a completely straight face, like she genuinely expects that argument to hold up.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Echo.”

The corner of her mouth finally twitches, and I set the bag down in front of her before she can come up with another reason caffeine counts as a meal.

“I was texting you this morning, but you didn’t answer, you ignoring me now?”

Her eyes drop back to the page. “I was busy.”

“With what? Starting a war with that notebook?”

“The notebook started it.”

That almost gets a smile out of me.

Then I notice the melody she keeps picking through.

I know it.