Chapter 15: Interruptions
We fall asleep that way but when I wake up, I’m curled beside him with his arms and legs wrapped protectively around me. My body still feels the hum of the car, the road rolling away, and I hold my breath to listen to the sounds of the house around me. Evie’s house. I almost can’t believe we’re here. But the room we’re in is dark with early evening, the bed is musty from disuse, and beyond the closed door I can hear children laughing, the low murmur of adults talking together in the kitchen, a cool breeze rustling leaves outside. No traffic—this is Sugar Creek, not D.C., and I swear that I can hear the gurgle of the creek at the edge of the property, the water splashing away like a messenger of the gods. To tell of Aunt Evie’s passing, perhaps, or to speed her so
