It was fear.
The exact same fear I had seen in the bakery.
“Who?” he asked.
“You know who.”
Ryan looked as if he had been hit. He remained silent for several seconds.
Then, “Did you talk to her?”
I crossed my arms.
“Interesting choice of words.”
He ignored the comment.
“Did he seem to be okay?”
The question hit me like a slap in the face. Not “What did she say?” Not “How did you find her?” Not “What happened?”
