THE GOODBYE HE MISSED
he said, and something in the simplicity of the exchange — no ceremony, no speech, just two people making a plan — felt more significant to him than anything either of them could have said out loud.
Afterward, they stood on the Morrison and 39th pavement, the late-February air sharp enough to redden Sophia's cheeks. She looked up at the building — third floor, second from the left, the window that would belong to a boy who was, at that exact moment, three miles away at school, entirely unaware his life was about to get a great deal simpler.
"That's it," she said. "In six weeks, you live here."
"Yes," Adrian said.
"How does it feel?"