Chapter 16: Arthur and Lance, the Last Good Night

Arthur texted Lance at nine-seventeen, which was late enough to be unusual and early enough not to be alarming, and the message said only: *Sycamore. Half hour. Not a meeting.*

Lance responded in forty seconds: *Already in a cab.*

That was the thing about Lance. He never made you explain the need. He just showed up, and Arthur stood on the corner of Fourth and Brannan with his jacket collar up against the fog and felt, for the first time in four days, like he was breathing at a normal depth.