Phoenix
We drove across town. Robyn sat stiffly and silently and only spoke when she had to give me directions. I could have put the address on the GPS, but I figured it was better if I forced her to talk, at least a little bit. I knew I’d said or done something wrong again, but I had no idea what. I thought about asking her point-blank, “What’s wrong?” but I had a pretty sure feeling that she would just say, “Nothing.”
Her karate school was across the railroad tracks in the dodgy part of town. It seemed like a strange place to put a school, but on second thought, the old converted warehouse provided a big space, and maybe it brought some order and discipline into a neighborhood that was constantly plagued by drugs and crime. It did make me a little worried about Robyn going there
