She didn’t look up from the ribbon on her leg.

“Sometimes he asked if I was playing the piano yet.

I don’t play the piano.”

A white sedan jumped the concrete curb onto the park grass fifty yards away.

The tires tore deep, muddy tracks through the white frost as the car slid sideways toward the playground.

Rebecca threw the driver’s door open before the car had even stopped rolling.

She left the engine running and ran across the lawn toward our bench.