“We’ve got all the time in the world,” Richard said.

He stood next to her in the quiet, resting his hand on his thumb where the old faded scar marked the skin.

He didn’t weigh any risks, he didn’t scan for secondary exits, and he didn’t check for incoming calls.

The long stillness he’d wanted for six years had finally come, plain and clean and true.

The warm morning sun fell across the dented hood of the pickup.

“The long weekend is over at last.”