More Than We Can Tell (Letters to the Lost #2)

by Brigid Kemmerer

“Do you want me to come get you?” His voice is so kind. I sniff and swipe at my eyes. “You don’t even know me.” He gives a short, self-deprecating laugh. “I do know you. Kind of.” He pauses. “We can go for coffee or something. Where are you?” “I’m in the grass beside Saint Patrick’s. In Annapolis.” “Funny.” “Why funny?” “Because that’s where we go to church. I’m fifteen minutes away. Are you going to be okay?”

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