She kept her eyes on the street as she shifted into reverse.

“Put that right back in your purse, Jodi,” Darla said.

“You’re driving your own car,” I said.

“Gas is three eighty a gallon at the station on Highway 14.”

“I said put it away.” Darla backed out onto the pavement with one hand on top of the wheel.

“I’m not taking one cent of your money today.”

I folded the two bills in half and tucked them into my zipper pocket.

The tires whined against the grooved concrete as we merged onto Interstate 90 heading east toward Sioux Falls.