“Okay,” Noah said softly.

They sat together on the bench until the streetlights along Route 4 clicked on by themselves.

The evening air turned sharp and cold on Michael’s face.

“Time to go in,” Michael said.

Noah got up and dropped his empty juice box in the wire trash can.

He didn’t glance nervously over his shoulder.

He didn’t hesitate.

He walked straight to the passenger side of Michael’s sedan.