The drive to the cheap roadside motel took twenty minutes.

The broken heater in Claire’s old Buick rattled loudly the whole way.

The cold autumn air seeped through the vents and settled into her bones.

She kept both hands tight on the steering wheel while the boys talked in the back seat.

The dashboard shook with every mile.

They did not notice the temperature inside the car.

They were completely focused on a thick stack of index cards.

Claire parked in front of room number twelve.