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This time, Eleanor looks up. “Don’t bother sitting down,” she snaps. “I’ve warned you before. If you’re late, don’t bother coming.”

Without a word, he turns and walks out.

“Excuse me,” I murmur, and I follow.

I hear Eleanor calling me, but I don’t turn around.

Dare’s strides are long, but I run to catch him.

“Wait,” I say breathlessly, and I pull at his arm.

He’s patient as he stares down at me.

“Let’s go eat in town,” I suggest. “Together.”

He smiles at this and glances at the dining room.

“You know she’ll be upset if we do.”

“I don’t care,” I answer honestly.

We ride to town in Dare’s car.

“Will you be all right tomorrow night?” he asks. “You won’t know anyone.”

“I’ll know you,” I tell him. “You’ll be there, won’t you?”

“If you want me to be.”

“I do.”

“Consider it done, then,” he says quietly, and he motions for a waiter. “She’ll have dessert,” he tells the skinny man.

I’ve done a terrible thing, he said.

“What did you do?” I ask bluntly, as I take a bite of cake. “What is your secret?’

Dare startles, then almost laughs.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” he answers. “Because you’re here and the past is gone.”

I almost believe that it’s that easy.

We finish our dinner, and drive back to Whitley and when we’re in the car, Dare hums.

I close my eyes and listen, and soak in the sound. I think it’s the song he played on the piano, and when we get home, I ask him to play.

So he does.

The salon is quiet and dark, and his notes drift on the air like snow.

I sit next to him, content to soak in the sound, his scent, his air.

If he’s the air, I’ll happily breathe it.

I almost float away on his song, and when he’s done, the silence is loud.

He walks me to my room.