He didn’t speak again except to repeat his question. No matter what she did or said.
“Where is home, Cassidy Knowles?”
When the evening settled in with a foggy chill, that raised goosebumps over her whole body, she deserted him and descended back to the hotel. Though she waited all night, there was no sign of Russell.
Some romantic vacation.
She dialed for her messages. Seventeen. She hung up without listening to a one of them.
At dawn there was a knock on the door and she rushed over to open it.
Instead of Russell…instead of throwing their arms around each other and both being sorry…a maid held out a note.
The paper crackled as she opened it. Russell’s writing, not her father’s. But it was as if they were both speaking from the same page.
Cassidy,
You are really going places. I’m happy for you. Un……
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