Tim is also staring at the television screen. His eyes widen when they show the photograph of Kelli. His fingers grip the edge of the sofa, his knuckles turning white. “Isn’t that the waitress from the Shamrock?” I say as casually as possible. “Um.” He rips his eyes away from the television screen. “Is it? Maybe. I haven’t been there in a long time. Not since we went together.” “You’re not sure? Didn’t you say you went out with her?” “No,” he says. “I mean, barely. We got a drink together when she was done with her shift. That’s it. It was nothing.” “I see…” I’m almost certain he told me they
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