He adjusted the rearview mirror, tilting the glass until his eyes met mine in the dark car.

“Rachel, we have to talk about what my mother said back in the waiting room,” Ethan said, his quick sentence fading into a quiet murmur.

“Drive the car, Ethan,” I said.

He put the station wagon into drive and pulled slowly out of the hospital parking lot onto the empty, rain-slicked highway.

I turned my head away from the mirror and sat quietly in the back seat of the wagon beside June, looking out at the dark highway.

The front door deadbolt clicked into place at a quarter to six in the morning.