Twelve Months Later, Ethan Came Back With a Sleeping Newborn and a Broken Suitcase
Marcus wrote the date on his napkin, then the time.
“March twenty-second.
Eight fifty in the morning.”
The waitress set down two coffees and a slice of pie without being asked.
Marcus pulled the pie toward himself and cut it in half.
“The pie here is the only reason I drive out this far,” he said.
“That’s not a legal opinion.”
“No,” he said.