Chapter 23: Cassidy

I went down alone, in Soren's sweatshirt and my boots, with my hair a mess.

He had asked if he should come, and I had said, "Stay."

He had stayed.

Cassidy stood in the little pool of blue neon outside the shop door, holding two cups.

She wore the cream sweater, and her eyes were swollen and plain, with no makeup at all.

"I brought you the one you like," she said. "Oat milk, no sugar. I know you don't want it."

"I don't."

"I'll hold both."

She did, and her hands shook.

I stood in the doorway with my arms folded, and I did not ask her in.

"Say it," I said.

She took a breath.

"I'm sorry for the equipment room."

"That's the smallest one."

She nodded.

"I'm sorry for Christmas, when you cooked me dinner and tucked a blanket around me."

Her voice cracked.

"I'm sorry I signed that page as their agent and said it was a sponsor form. I'm sorry for the twenty percent."

She wiped her face with her wrist.

"I'm sorry for the funeral, and the bathtub, and the note."

"You have a long list."

"I wrote it on the drive over."

"Of course you did."

A little laugh broke out of her, wet and awful.

"I know I can't make it right," she said. "I'm not asking you to. I came to give you something."

She set one cup carefully on the step.

From her bag she took out a small gray drive, the size of a matchbox.

"That's everything I kept," she said. "Every raw clip of you, every file."

She held it out an inch.

"I deleted the cloud this afternoon, and every password. This is the only copy left. You can burn it or keep it."

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