Joelle was taller than he remembered. Her eyes were older, and she looked tired and terribly sad. She’d let her hair grow in and dyed it jet black, which made her skin seem even paler. She walked into the room and looked around, but Charlie could tell she wasn’t really taking in what she saw. She turned to face him, then averted her eyes, looking at his chest as she spoke. “I tried to find you, for months. But you were nowhere, and I gave up. Later I was going out with this guy, a private detective, and one night I told him about you. He says I bet I could find him. But we broke up and I figured that was that. Then last Friday I get a text from him that says ‘alias ralph booth, hotel pontito.’”