The taxi turned into our subdivision.

I pulled over two streets away, parking behind an idling pickup truck.

“Keep your seatbelt on,” I told Lily.

“No matter what happens, do not get out.”

A few minutes later, I saw Mark walk around the corner on foot.

He was no longer in his travel suit.

He had changed into a faded jacket and work gloves.

In his right hand, he carried a red plastic gas can.