Page 27 of The Last Days of Lilah Goodluck

“Probably for the best.”

“I also started working on a second wish list, which—”

“Did you finish the first one?” he asks.

“No. Not quite.”

“What does the second one cover?”

“Things I want to revisit, like my favorite books and so on.”

He thinks it over for a moment. “That makes sense. What’s on the list?”

“The paranormal romance I read last night and season one ofThe Vampire Diaries. Except it’s twenty-two episodes, so I don’t know how feasible a rewatch is given time constraints and the other things I hope to do. But those two choices kind of sum up my teenage years.”

“Maybe you could just watch your favorite couple of episodes.”

“That would work.”

“What else have you been doing?”

“Not much.” I stare out at the ocean and try to convince myself that everything is fine.

“What are you frowning about?” he asks. “What’s wrong now?”

“I looked you up online, and I feel a little weird about it.”

“Did you?” he asks in an unhappy tone of voice. “Weird how?”

“Guilty, I guess.”

His lips thin, and he shoots me a look out of the corner of his eye. “You could have just not told me.”

“I don’t want to lie to you. It doesn’t feel like a good time for me to be adding to my karmic debt. But I did want to know more about you since we’re spending time together, and you’re touchy about being asked anything. Which is, of course, your right.” I swallow. “That excuse sounded more plausible in my head.”

Nothing from him.

“I should point out that I already knew most of it due to living on the same planet as you for the past twenty-nine years. And wanting to know more about the person you’re spending time with isn’t exactly nefarious. Though I can also see how you might feel it’s ever so slightly an invasion of your privacy since you’re sensitive about that sort of thing.”

His jaw is set in stone. It would take a chisel to move the thing. “I just wish you hadn’t done that, Lilah.”

“But don’t you think maybe you’re being a little overly sensitive?”

“Are you deliberately trying to start a fight with me?”

“No. Just thinking things through.”

His frown turns contemplative, but he says no more.

The cell attached to the dashboard vibrates with an incoming call, andHelenaflashes on the screen. He dismisses the call, and a moment later, the cell starts vibrating once again. He punches the button with his finger and says, “I’m about to walk into a meeting.”

“No, you’re not,” says a woman with an upper-crust English accent. “You’re driving on the highway a few minutes from home.”

“Mother—”

“Carlos just passed you. He’s heading into Beverly Hills to visit his brother. He texted to tell me you were on your way.”

“He did, did he?” asks Alistair in a defeated tone.

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