Sixty-Six:
Piper Powell
I was sitting with Dylan at a diner in Crescent City. Trying to process everything that was going on. “Are you alright?” Dylan asked. I stared down at the coffee that he’d ordered me, then back at him. I didn’t know what to say. I just kept on staring back at the coffee, into the abyss of blackness.
“No,” I said, “no. I’m not alright. Because I just found my birth father, and then I found out that there isn’t a cure for the EVOS. Then I also found out that I am invincible and that I’m going to live forever and I am going to die alone. So, no, I’m not fine but it’s not appropriate to have a David Rose size anxiety attack in the middle of one of the oldest diners in the city.”
Dylan winced. “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to freak you out.”
