“Are you okay here for a bit?” Paul asked. “I’m going to go get you a phone.” “There’s nothing wrong with mine,” I said. “Other than it’s in your name with a Vancouver Island number. I can get you one that will be harder to trace back to where you are.” It made sense. “Okay,” I told him. “I guess I can’t get into any trouble surrounded by fat mannequins.” I didn’t like to shop but I had learned how from Alina. Once I found my size I had several bags full and was waiting out front on a bench for Paul within twenty minutes. I had the clothes I wore in packed up as well and was wearing some of the things I had just bought. I was much more comfortable. I had on a long sleeved top and a sleeveless jacket zipped up to my chin to hide the bruises that were starting to turn brown. Paul came and sat on the other end of the bench with me facing the other way. “Did you get lost?” I asked him. He jumped. “Geez, I didn’t recognize you,” he said. Then he looked at the bags. “I was going to pay for that. It’s sort of my fault you need it.”
