Dean stood beside my driver’s door while I unlocked it.

He patted my shoulder twice through my heavy coat, his hand heavy and warm.

“Go straight home and make yourself some tea,” Dean said.

“I’ll take care of the court filings this week.

By December twelfth, this whole awful chapter will be closed for good.”

He got into his black truck, started it up, and backed out onto the main dirt road without waiting for us to leave.

I sat behind the wheel of my car with the heater blowing cold air on my knees.