sunshine (6)

“You know a guy named Malcolm?” she asked, voice tighter than she meant. Jace’s mouth curled downward. “My dad’s name was Malcolm.” The world spun a little. “Was?” “He died,” the boy said, simple and very unbothered. “A few years ago.” Eva sat down hard on the fountain ledge. “How old are you?” “Thirteen.” Thirteen. Not sixteen. Which meant Malcolm hadn’t disappeared. He’d escaped. Her thoughts knotted fast. He hadn’t been abducted or killed—he’d left. For real. For good. And this boy, Jace, was proof that Malcolm had built a life elsewhere. Started over. Without her.

hasta la vista babe.