Nobody stands on a lawn and talks to a captain and a lawyer and a squad car.

One week.

I had built twenty-seven years of my life on short extensions like that.

It was never Mark who asked.

It was always the peace that asked, and the peace had Lauren’s face.

“Maybe we drive to your house,” I said to Rachel, “and sort the rest out Monday.”

Rachel didn’t look at me.

She looked at the light.