“Finally, I found you. We need to go— Adelaide, what’s wrong?” I sniffed and wiped the wetness from under my eyes. “Nothing, I’m fine.” I hated that every time I looked at him, I saw the boy in the telephone booth, before I saw the man who preferred Victoria. “Love, look at me,” he said, and I shivered. He stood on a step below, leaning down. I sat rigid, trying not to give in as his hands consuming my jaw with concern. His entire being overwhelmed me. “Are you hurt? Tell me what’s wrong,” he urged.
