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Back Any Way the Wind Blows Save as PDF
Chapters (100)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. 65
  69. 66
  70. 67
  71. 68
  72. 69
  73. 70
  74. 71
  75. 72
  76. 73
  77. 74
  78. 75
  79. 76
  80. 77
  81. 78
  82. 79
  83. 80
  84. 81
  85. 82
  86. 83
  87. 84
  88. 85
  89. 86
  90. 87
  91. 88
  92. 89
  93. 90
  94. 91
  95. EPILOGUE
  96. AGATHA
  97. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  98. Also by Rainbow Rowell
  99. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  100. Newsletter Sign-up

“That’s all right. Probably wouldn’t have worked anyway.” He sighs, then gathers up the papers, folds them, and gives them back to me. “Thank you for sharing these with me, Shepard.”

“Dad…” Penelope is getting distressed. “Wait. We need a plan.”

“Well, I’ll keep thinking about it,” he says. “I’m going to do some reading.”

“What’s Shepard supposed to do in the meantime?”

“Nothing dangerous, I hope.” Then he smiles at me and nods towards Penelope. “You might want to find different company, Shepard.”

“Dad,” she says, “I need to fix this.”

“And I’ll do my best to help,” he says. “I’m sorry I don’t have any solutions off the top of my head. It’d be easier if I could consult with your mother—”

“You can’t!”

“I know. I won’t. Just … don’t do anything to make this worse.” He seems to remember something. “Where’s Simon? Is he already off fighting the demon?”

“He’s…” Penelope shrugs. “He got his own flat.”

Mr. Bunce’s face falls. Like this is worse news than my engagement. “That doesn’t sound like Simon. Did you have a row?”

“No,” she says, looking down at her scone, “we’re fine. It’s not like we were going to spend our whole lives in each other’s pockets…”

“Could have fooled me,” her dad says.

46

SIMON

Baz is lying on my bed when I get out of the shower.

He brought pyjamas with him from his flat. I wonder if this is what he always sleeps in—cotton trousers and a T-shirt. I usually sleep in my pants, but I’ve been wearing joggers while he’s here. Baz let me borrow his pyjamas once, on Christmas Eve …

This was easier when it started.

This thing with Baz.

We were so caught up—with the Mage and the visitations and finding out who killed Baz’s mum. It’s always easier to make a decision when your back’s against the wall, and there’s a knife at your throat. No time to think; just do. Grab the thing you need. Grab the thing you want. Steal the kiss.

I’d live like that all the time if I could.

I’d make all my decisions jumping out of second-storey windows.

You know that phrase, “out of the frying pan, into the fire”? People say that like it’s a bad thing. But what’s the alternative—out of the frying pan, onto the counter? Out of the frying pan, onto the sofa.