Claire walked back to the booth.

Her neck felt suddenly cold without the heavy silver against her skin.

Arthur was packing his bylaws back into the scuffed briefcase.

Eli was explaining a geology measurement to Owen, who simply nodded and handed his brother the last french fry.

“We need to get some sleep,” Claire said.

“Tomorrow starts at eight.”

They drove back to the motel in the dark.

The parking lot was full of long-haul semi-trucks idling their huge engines.