Chapter 38 Blood And Strawberries

• The grocery store was out of strawberries.
• It shouldn’t have mattered. Not with Keller’s name burning a hole in Adam’s pocket, not with the safehouse still reeking of Clara’s tears and the phantom ache of Solo’s Polaroid haunting my dreams. But Adam had promised pancakes—*real ones, with fruit this time*—and I’d clung to the mundane task like a lifeline.
• “They had them yesterday,” I muttered, glaring at the empty shelf.