Page 38 of Dead to Me

She gripped her coffee cup tighter. That told me everything.

“Milan,” she whined.

“You got to ask me a question.”

China put the cup down.

“I didn’t come here to argue.”

“Neither did I.”

“Then why are you doing this?”

I looked at her.

“Doing what?”

She seemed frustrated.

“Making everything uncomfortable.”

I nearly laughed.

China was in my hotel room on the morning she planned to marry the man who helped frame me for murder, and she thought I was the one making things uncomfortable.

I stepped closer.

“Do you know what makes me uncomfortable?”

Her face changed. I let the silence go on until she started to look nervous.

Then I smiled.

“Strapless bras.”

China stared at me. She let out a breath and laughed.

“You’re crazy.”

People used to call me that before I was arrested. After that, it stopped being funny. I picked up my coffee.

“You should go get ready.”

“I need you upstairs.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Promise?”

I looked at her.

“I wouldn’t miss today for anything.”

That was the second time I said it to her. This time, I meant it even more.

As soon as the door closed, I got to work. I took out the false bottom from the black duffel bag. Underneath it was everything I had spent months gathering.

Plastic shoe covers, a disposable rain poncho, heavy-duty trash bags, a roll of clear plastic, zip ties, a folding utility knife, a small hammer, and a change of clothes sealed in plastic. Prepared for whatever route I decided to take.