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“Hey, beautiful.”

I try to answer. What comes out makes him stop whatever he is doing.

“Giselle?”

“I’m in the car.”

“Are you driving?”

“No. I stopped.”

“Where?”

“Wawa.”

“Which one?”

I tell him, then start crying hard enough that I can’t finish the directions.

“Send me the location,” he says. “Did something happen to Rae?”

“No. She’s okay. We talked.”

I get the location into our thread. He tells me he has it. There is movement on his end, and I hear him say my name to Graves.

“You want me there?”

“Yes.”

It is the easiest answer I have given all evening.

“We’re coming. Lock your doors.”

I press the button. He stays on the phone while I try to stop crying. Somewhere behind his voice, a car door closes.

“I needed gas,” I say.

“You at a pump?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“I’m on empty.”

He goes quiet, then asks whether the engine is off. I tell him it is.

“I can’t get out.”

“Then stay there.”

“It’s not that I can’t. I just can’t seem to make myself do it.”

“I heard you, Zel. Stay in the car.”

I put my head back. A woman at the next pump lifts a child from the rear seat. He has lost a shoe. She finds it, puts it back on him, and carries him toward the store with his face pressed into her neck.

I close my eyes.


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