Page 543 of The Sinner: James

“She’s coming this way,” he murmurs to himself.

Out of reflex, he brings his hand to his neckline and fixes his tie. His head begins to turn, telling me the woman in question is getting closer to our table.

Just when his face tips up, and a grin tugs at his lips, a hand touches my shoulder, and the familiar scent of her perfume floods my nostrils.

Her voice rings in my ears.

“James?”

My name rolls softly off her lips, yet I only feel the tension in my chest.

Something’s not right.

Wrapped in the mother of all bad feelings, I tip my face up and look over my shoulder, the man next to me staring at her, mesmerized.

“Rain?”

A shadow slides over her eyes.

I push to my feet.

She smiles at the people around the table while I make the introductions.

She exchanges a few words with them yet refuses to sit with us. Instead, she tells me she needs to talk to me.

“Is everything okay?”

She slides her hand over my forearm.

“Can we talk for a moment?”

“Can’t it wait? We’ll talk as soon as I finish dinner.”

“I need to go back.”

“Back? What do you mean back? You just got here.”

“I’m flying back tonight,” she says quietly.

I read her eyes but can’t spot anything other than gloom.

This can’t be good.

I excuse myself and pivot away from the table while she steps ahead.

We exit the restaurant in silence and soon enter the hotel lobby.

“Let’s talk upstairs,” I say.

She stops and turns around.

And then she looks at me with downcast eyes.

“Let’s take a few steps outside,” she pleads with me.

I search her eyes.

All I find is more sadness.

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