Connorhas been holding on to
a piece of paper for several days. It's addressed to Murphy, so Bar either gave it to him by mistake, or gave it to him so he could give it to his brother. He forgot about it, until he sat down ffor dinner and felt something in his pocket. He flipped the envelope over and over in his hands, eyes scanning the bar for Murphy.
No sign of him, and the envelope had come partly opened already. Connor wanted to know what the note said, and knew Murphy would show him anyway, so why not take a peek now? He eased the rest of the envelope open and tugged the paper out.
I'm gone. Not sure if when I'll be back. Take care, for what it's worth.
-SaraHe read the words several times, trying to digest their meaning. The vague, implied meaning. Sara was gone? Really gone? From the tone of the letter and the indentation of ehr writing on the paper, Connor could tell she was upset when she wrote it. Upset with Murphy?
Take care, for what it's worth For what it's worth.
Connor scratched the back of his head and muttered a string of curses in Gaelic and Russian and Spanish and Italian all run together and overlapping.