Alia tucked the phone audio bud into her ear so she could jog the woods path while she talked to Becca. “Hey, big sister.” They always greeted each other that way. They’d been doing it forever. Alia couldn’t even remember anymore when it had started. “Don’t mind the heavy breathing. I’m talking to you while I run.” “I won’t take it personally.” “I heard a vicious rumor. Just calling to confirm it’s not true.” It was a typical morning near the Oregon coast, fog lying cool and low over the treetops. A mist, like the Seattle one Nate had written about, wrapped itself against her skin like an embrace. “Oh, yeah?” Alia kept her voice light. “I heard Nate Riordan is there.” They hadn’t talked about Nate, not once, since the breakup. Becca had mentioned his name, raised the topic, made it clear she was open to hearing the whole story—but Alia had always found a way to change the subject. “Mira emailed me from Hawaii. She wanted me to check on you and make sure you were okay.”
