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“What about you?” Cassie asked, realizing she’d been silent the entire time. “What’ve you been up to?”

“Oh, God. Let’s see. Well, moved to New York City to make it big. Failed miserably.”

“You did not.” Laura smacked his elbow. “You were on Broadway.”

Michael waved her off, but he was smiling. “I did a few things here and there. Mostly ensemble work. Nothing like dreaming about being the leading man and ending up in the chorus.”

“You did a great job.” Why did Cassie’s voice sound so quiet, so meek? “I saw a few clips of you online. You were really good.”

Michael’s eyes softened. “Really? You looked me up?”

“Of course. We were best friends in high school. That doesn’t go away just because we haven’t talked in a while.”

“You still dating Steve?” Laura asked.

“Yes.” Michael rolled his eyes. “Six years this December. He’s so annoying.”

“Oh no, how come?”

Michael threw up his arms. “Because he’s perfect. He’s kind and considerate and has excellent communication skills. He’s open and trusting. My mother loves him. He talks about cars and fishing and sports with my father. He’s got a good job and a huge future ahead of him as a lawyer.”

“Oh, yeah, this sounds awful.” Cassie smirked. “How can you stand it?”

“You laugh, but you guys know me. Tinkerbell needs applause to live. I need drama. Please tell me you have some juicy stories to share.”

Michael looked right at Cassie when he said this.

“I lead a pretty boring—”

“That’s a lie, and we all know it.” Michael put down his fork and stretched his arm across the table. “I didn’t want to be the one to point out the elephant in the room, but we both know you’ve been through some shit. I’m not going to make you talk about it if you don’t want to, but let’s not pretend it doesn’t exist. That’s not healthy for anyone, least of all you.”

Cassie was stunned. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out.

Laura came to her rescue. “I feel like this is a three-sheets-to-the-wind conversation, not a brunch conversation.”

Michael retracted his arm and dug back into his omelet. “Okay, fair enough. So, we’ll avoid the serial killer topic for now. What’s one step down from that?”

Cassie searched her brain for something—anything—that would satisfy Michael and not feel like she was bearing her soul to someone who was practically a stranger these days. “Uh, I’ve been having these strange dreams lately.”

“That’s, like, several steps away from serial killers, but I’ll take it. Let’s hear it.”

Cassie turned to Laura. “Actually, you’re in them. So’s Mom and Dad.”

“Really?” She looked flattered. “Good dreams or bad dreams?”

“I would classify them as nightmares.” Cassie took a bite of her sandwich to allow herself a few seconds to think. She covered her mouth and continued in between chewing. “Basically, I’m in a car I can’t control, speeding toward you guys. The weird part is that you’re, like, maybe five years old or so?”

Laura took a thoughtful bite of her pancake. “That is weird.”

“Okay, okay. Let’s think about this.” Michael put his fork down and steepled his fingers in front of his face. “Not being able to steer the car could mean you feel like your life is out of your control. Does that track??

?

“What are you, Morpheus, the God of Dreams now?”

“Answer the question.”

“I mean, maybe?” Cassie hesitated. “Honestly, I feel like I’m finally getting things under control. Work is going well. My dating life isn’t great, but that doesn’t keep me up at night.”

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