Sometimes, she just wants a moment to sit down and stay in her head, thinking about nothing at all. Too bad for Maggie, this is not one of those times.

His voice is grating like sharp nails on a chalkboard and she doesn't dare look over at him lest he take it as an invitation to stay. Maggie digs into the pocket of her jacket, throws a couple of bills on the bartop, and quickly makes an attempt to move to the other side of the bar.

Away from him. Far, far away.