The rain fell harder, smearing the taillights of the cars in front of us.

“When did he tell you that?” I asked.

“Sunday,” Hannah said quietly.

“I was trying to do my chores, and I had to sit down on the stairs.”

I glanced at her in the rearview mirror.

She was curled up in a tight ball, her knees drawn nearly to her chest.

“Did he give you any medicine?” I asked her.

“Only a peppermint,” she said.