I unlocked the doors with the key fob and climbed into the driver’s seat.
George got in beside me, closing his door with a solid thud. He reached over and touched my knee.
I inserted the key and started the engine, the air conditioning immediately blowing cold against my face.
I shifted into drive and steered the vehicle toward the highway ramp, leaving the restaurant behind us.
I did not look back.
The gray morning light had barely reached the top of the dresser when the nightstand began to buzz.
It was a low, heavy vibration that rattled the small ceramic dish where I kept my rings.
Six o’clock on a Tuesday morning was too early for anyone to call but a hospital or an emergency room.
George reached across my shoulder, his arm warm and solid in the quiet room.
He grabbed the phone before the third vibration could wake the dog sleeping at the foot of our bed.
He squinted at the screen, his face lined with sleep as the blue light cast a sharp glare over his eyes.
