Page 114 of The Girl Who Survived


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“Just so you know, this is waaay too early for me,” she said. “Even when I teach, I’m not up before six. Never.” She waited as the coffee drizzled into her cup. “I’m a substitute teacher.”

“I know.”

“Of course you do. You know everything about me.”

“Not everything.”

“But you will. Or that’s what you hope for.” She slid Tate a glance as she picked up her cup and blew across the rim.

Tate watched her lips pucker as she chased the steam away, then gingerly took a sip. She eyed him over the rim. “Since you’re dressed, would you mind taking Rhapsody outside?”

“Glad to,” he said.

“And then, once I get myself together, maybe you could give me a ride to the police station.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t even say it. I’ve had time to think, okay? Like it or not, and yes, I think ‘not,’ I have to talk to them, explain what happened. Also, I really want my phone and ID, so I can, you know, communicate with people and get around. I can’t just hang out here and rely on you, for God’s sake.”

“No?” He felt one side of his lips twist upward.

She sent him a withering glance. “No.” But she, too, smiled, and for just a split second it was difficult to remember that he couldn’t trust her.

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