“Okay, what aren’t you telling us?”
“Long story.” Well, he hadn’t lost that inscrutable smile, had he? “You know what? I want a steak,” he said. “A real steak. Thick. Rare.”
My mouth watered at the thought.
“There’s a place just up the road,” Ben said. “I think it caters to ex-cons craving real food.”
“Good,” Cormac said.
I ended up walking between them, so I wrapped my arms around both their middles and pulled them close. Cormac draped an arm over my shoulder; Ben hugged me, and we matched strides. And it felt right.
Our pack of three was whole again.