As Eberhardt maneuvered back into traffic, Keira's stomach grumbled loudly.
“Thunderstorm's approaching,” Eberhardt said. He caught my eye in the rear view mirror. I'd returned to the backseat when we dropped off Brody.
I smiled and draped my arm around Keira's shoulders. “Anyone still care for dessert?”
The Coffee Shoppe no longer looked overly crowded, but I was relieved when Keira said, “Can't we take it home?” Eberhardt graciously offered to run in. Keira sighed and leaned against me. I shifted so she could rest her head on my shoulder. It brought back a memory of the night we'd first met; she'd leaned against me in just this way.
“What's on your mind?” I asked.“Just wondering.”
“Are they after me or us?”
“We're back to that?”
“The last time we thought they were trying to bring down the Resistance, we were wrong. What if we're wrong again?”
I sighed. “Well, we know someone is after you, and we know many oppose the Resistance. We would have to be naive to assume otherwise.”
“Paranoia, what a way to live!” she said as Eberhardt climbed back into the car.
The glow from a streetlamp briefly illuminated the scar on his left cheek. Then it was gone, hidden in shadows.