“Well, if I leave now, I can probably be in Syracuse in—” “Please don’t leave,” he interrupts, eyes wide and cloudy. “Not yet.” I purse my lips. “There’s nothing left for me to do here, apparently.” I don’t miss the flinch in his face. “You can’t leave now. It’s late, and the drive is too long.” “Will, I don’t—” “Please,” he says, eyes begging. “Don’t go.”
