The Buick rattled at the first bump and then found the long hum it kept on the open road.

“We should have stopped at four,” Eli said.

“We did stop at four.”

“You stopped.

You didn’t let us out.”

Arthur was asleep before the Naperville exit, his briefcase flat on his lap.

Trucks passed and the wheel pulled, and she corrected it without looking down at her hands.

The sun came in low through the windshield and lay across the backs of her fingers.