He adjusted the rearview mirror, turning the glass until his eyes aligned with mine in the dark cabin.

“Rachel, we have to talk about what my mother said back in the waiting room,” Ethan said, his quick sentence trailing off into a quiet murmur.

“Drive the car, Ethan,” I said.

He shifted the station wagon into drive and pulled slowly out of the hospital parking lot onto the empty, rain-slicked highway.

I turned my head away from the mirror, sitting quietly in the back seat of the wagon beside June as I looked out at the dark highway.

The front door deadbolt clicked into place at a quarter to six in the morning.