My stomach full, I lean back from my plate and gulp the last of the water in my glass. I'm feeling a sense of urgency, as though things are finally moving ahead the way they are supposed to.

I turn to Beckett who watches Poppy feed the puppies scraps from the meal. "Socrates and I are going to go out," I say. "He thinks he has a way for me to get to New York."

Beckett's body jerks as if I've hit him. "I'll come with you."

"You don't have to," I say. "You're ...