Page 70 of The Villain

“Cassian?”

“That’s right,” Mrs. Thurston says. “And before you embarrass yourself, no, Seth is not here.”

I chuckle and Allegra smiles. Libby used to have a very obvious crush on Seth.

“Gran, go inside. I’ll take care of them,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “How are you, Cassian? What are you doing out this way?”

“Thought I’d stop by on my way to Atlantic City.”

“Because we’re so on the way.”

“I missed your custard.”

“Let’s remedy that. Two?” she asks, glancing at Allegra.

“Yep.” She sets her little boy down on the counter and I check out his toy truck. He’s Gage’s age, maybe a little younger. “Who’s this?”

“This is Joey. Say hi Joey,” she says, handing the first custard to Allegra. “He’s shy.”

“It’s all right. I have a nephew your age and I think he might have that same truck.”

“Really?” Joey asks.

I nod, take my wallet out to pay when Libby brings the custard. “Your granddad?” I ask.

“He passed away a few years ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear it.” A beat passes. “I’m glad to see your grandmother is still a force.”

“That she is.”

“How’s business?”

“Better in the summer, but we do all right.”

Wind howls and Joey shivers. She grabs him up. “Here, let me pay and you can get inside.”

“It’s on the house.”

“Here,” I say, handing her two hundred-dollar bills. She raises her eyebrows. “It’s nice for some things to stay the same,” I tell her.

“Well, thank you. We appreciate it. Say hi to your family, Cassian.”

I nod and turn back to Allegra who is eating her custard, shivering. I reach into the car to get her coat and slip it over her shoulders.

“You’re right. This is really good custard. Thanks.”

“Let me show you something.” I lead her around the tall, blowing grass to a rickety stair we climb up that leads to a plank down to the deserted beach. The wind is freezing, and I keep her close.

“Aren’t you cold?” she asks.

“I’m fine. Look.” We walk a little farther and she gasps. I look at her, watching her eyes as she takes it in for the first time, this wild, gray-green water, the crashing waves.

“Oh, my God. It’s amazing.”

It is. She looks up at me, the tip of her nose and her cheeks pink from cold. A gust of wind blows, and she turns her face into my chest, shivering. “Come on. We’ll finish these in the car.”

We hurry back to the car. I open the driver’s side door and stand aside.