She has grease on one cheek.
Naturally.
Another afternoon, she takes me to a village bakery because she remembers going there with her father as a child.
The woman running it now is the granddaughter of the original owner.
Sabine cries over bread.
Pretends she doesn't.
I don't mention it.
At night, she sleeps sprawled across me like she spent her entire life claiming she didn't need another human being and is now making up for lost time.
I don't complain.
I also don't tell her that I haven't slept this well since I was probably twelve.
Nobody needs that information.
For fourteen days, Ghost and Vesper disappear.
So do Xavier Blackwell and Sabine Beaumont.
We're simply us.
Then my phone reconnects to civilization.
It immediately becomes a mistake.
Thirty-seven messages.
Nine missed calls.
Four threats from Jade.
Six from Drew, though two are videos of a turkey fryer I refuse to open.
Kane sends:
YOU HAVE A WIFE NOW. YOU CAN'T KEEP HIDING HER.
Vale:
Newport. Christmas. Stop pretending you didn't see this.
Leo is more concise.
Come.
Then there is an Evite.
An actual Evite.
I stare at it.
Sabine walks out of the bathroom wearing one of my shirts and drying her hair with a towel.