And that’s when I finally gave away one of my Finn stories to Toby. It was just a small story, like all my stories were. I told him about that day Greta brought the mistletoe with her to Finn’s apartment. I whispered the story into his ear. I told him about the weather that day. The pellets of sleet as we drove down. The way Finn looked. What he was wearing. I wasn’t even sure Toby could hear me, but I told him about the Requiem on the stereo. How the portrait was almost done. How scared I was. How stupid. And how, in the end, none of that mattered, because Finn saw through it all. I told Toby
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