Page 438 of Ruthless Court
Mom smiles.
“Go.”
I look between them.
“This is a terrible idea.”
Dad lifts his coffee.
“Probably.”
I stand.
Mom's face lights.
“Are you going?”
“No.”
I pull out my phone.
“I’m checking flights.”
Dad grins.
“That's my boy.”
Chicago is trying to kill me.
This cannot be normal.
The second the airport doors open, cold punches through my coat like it has a personal issue with California.
“Fuck.”
A woman passing with two suitcases looks at me.
“First winter?”
“That obvious?”
She laughs and keeps walking.
I buy another pair of gloves before leaving the terminal.
I am already wearing gloves.
Apparently Chicago requires backup gloves.
Then a beanie.
Then hand warmers from a kiosk because the guy behind the counter sees my face and says, “You’re going to need these.”
Hannah finds this hilarious.
She has no idea I'm here.
We've been texting all morning.
