Page 19

The pressure in my chest eases slightly.

“I wasn’t trying to disappear,” I tell her.

It isn’t entirely a lie.

G remains silent, letting me decide whether I want to continue.

“I just wanted somewhere new,” I add. “Somewhere nobody already had an idea of who I was supposed to be.”

She nods as though that makes perfect sense. “New we can do.”

“That easy?”

“No.” G smiles at me. “But pretending things are easy is one of my strongest qualities.”

A laugh escapes me.

We move over to the bench and sit facing the water. For a few minutes, neither of us speaks. The wind moves through the trees behind us, and waves break against the rocks far below.

I don’t feel pressured to fill the silence.

That might be my favorite thing about G so far. She can talk enough for ten people, but somehow, she also knows when not to.

Eventually, she checks the time on her phone.

“We should probably head back,” she says. “I need to shower before work, and you smell suspiciously like clean laundry.”

“I showered this morning.”

“Overachiever.”

We make our way back toward the Kombi. I climb into the driver’s seat while G buckles herself in beside me.

I turn the key.

The engine catches, coughs violently and dies.

My stomach drops.

“No.”

I try again. This time, it gives a low rumble followed by a sound that definitely cannot be good.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“I take it this isn’t normal?” G asks carefully.

“Absolutely not.”

I turn the key once more, willing the engine to cooperate.

It sputters and falls silent.

“What am I going to do?” I groan, dropping my forehead against the steering wheel. “I’ve had her for two days. Two fucking days.”

“Maybe don’t hit her,” G suggests when I smack my palm against the wheel.

“She’s elderly.”