“How is she?” Charlotte asked Greg as she took a seat across from him at the diner. “How are you?” she added, her eyes sympathetic as they took in the bags under his eyes.
Greg had called her only minutes earlier and had brokenly told her what they’d seen the previous night, barely able to get the words out of his tight and burning throat, and he had heard the tears in her voice when she’d told him that he would be there soon.
“Lara barely touched her breakfast and she’s hardly said a word to me or any of her customers,” he explained worriedly.
It was as if Lara had used up all of her words when she told him that she was going to go to work. Greg had wanted to argue, but he knew that keeping busy was her way of coping and he wouldn’t take that away from her, not when he didn’t know h
