“To meet his kid, probably. For all I know, he’s still there.” “He’s not,” Nathan says. “He’s gone.” I sit up and look toward Nathan. “You talked to Evie?” He eyes me. “I mean, we’re here. She was the one who suggested we come.” I sink back into my seat. Of course this was her doing. I shouldn’t be surprised. One of the things I love about Evie is her emotional IQ. She’s always been good at reading me. At sensing what I need, sometimes before I realize I need it myself.
