Friday morning, they were sitting in the driveway of the Hoffman house dreading getting out of the car. Even the kids were quiet. For the last three days they’d holed up in a cabin owned by one of Prue’s old friends about thirty minute out of Dallas. None of them had turned a phone on since they’d left Houston, Prue arranging the cabin using a payphone in a gas station, citing she was old school and had her friend’s number memorized.
Now as they sat looking at the two houses, which admittedly looked completely unchanged from when they’d left, they were all nervous.
Bobbie squeezed Prue’s hand sitting beside her on the middle bench seat of the mini van they’d rented to drive from Houston to Dallas. “We need to get out of the car.”
“I feel like when we get out of the car, it’s going to be
