That’s . . . Wow,” Alice said. She had breathlessly listened to Charlie’s story, and now that he was finished, she didn’t have the faintest idea what to else say. Apparently, he didn’t either. “Yeah” was his only reply before lapsing into silence. She looked over at him, but he continued to stare out the windshield as he guided the Jeep along. She could practically see in his long-gone stare how far away his mind was then, his dry sense of humor buried by the mess he’d made digging up the past. What thoughts were tumbling around behind those green eyes of his? What mix of emotions had she just stirred awake? And, perhaps most surprisingly to her, why did she feel so bad now about asking him? Maybe it was early-onset Stockholm syndrome, if that was such a thing. “I had no idea that you died,” she finally said. “Well, sort of. Mostly, maybe? It’s kind of like that part in The Princess Bride—have you ever seen that movie? He’s mostly dead! Do you know what I’m talking about?”
