Twenty
Fiona Fallon
Of course, he called Oliver. Oliver was still going to school. He was in the city. He could track me down when I suddenly disappeared. “What happened?” Oliver demanded. “Why were ya in a pub with that prick?”
“Did he have ya follow me?” I asked.
Oliver wouldn’t meet my gaze.
“Berkshire!” I shouted, hitting him on the shoulder.
Oliver winced. “OW!” he said. “Alright, alright. Stop hittin’ me. Yes, he did have me follow ye. But he was concerned because ya disappeared shortly after he gave ya the dress for the investiture.”
“I didn’t disappear,” I said, “I went on a trip to the city with my grandmother. Or am I not allowed to do that now, either?”
“Not if it means meetin’ me
