Three hours later, I’m on Henneberry Road with the family heading for the Taratoni mansion. It’s a cool gray day and there’s a hint of rain in the air. I glance over at Monie, who’s looking out her window at the passing woods crowding the country lane. The leaves are beyond their peak and many of them have abandoned the bare branches that clack in the wind. Since we turned onto Henneberry, Monie’s grown quiet, and I sense rising tension in her. I’m wondering if it has anything to do with something I said or did, but I can’t think of what it would be.
I reach over and take her hand. “Something wrong?”
She shakes her head. “Just the usual, getting ready to deal with my parents.”
“Ahh…right,” I agree, although I have no idea what I’m agreeing to. I try not to form opinions of things I know
