I knew the smell: old vinyl, cleaning products, and the family’s business.

It had followed David home on winter coats for three years.

Clara climbed in as well.

Behind the passenger space were folded blankets and the long wooden casket that would become the part of that night I could least bear to remember.

David took the front passenger seat.

“Please go straight there,” I said.

Arthur reversed onto the gravel, then turned toward State Route 4.

I pressed a palm against my stomach as another tight pull made me stop speaking.