CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  MORTAL STORIES

  I awoke the next morning to the sound of a percolating coffee maker and the scent of the smoky-sweet liquid brewing in it. William was no longer lying beside me, but in his place was a folded paper crane. In between its wings was a separate piece of paper containing his note;

   

  The guys got me this morning and wouldn’t take no for an answer. We’re out surfing. I’ll be back soon, but wish it was even sooner.

  I love you,

  William

   

 

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