“I want to play chess.” “You couldn’t find someone in New York? You had to drive all the way to New Jersey?” I’m assuming he owns the Lucid Air parked in front of the Abebes’ place. Because of course he’d own my dream car. “I don’t think you understand.” He holds my eyes. I think his throat moves. “I want to play chess with you, Mallory.” Oh. Oh? “Why?” “It should have been you, yesterday. It was…I had you there. In front of me, across the board.” His lips press together. “It should have been you.”
