Chapter 14: Daylight

Rupert's POV

I woke on a cot over a bait shop with a quilt on me and no boots on my feet.

For a second I didn't know where I was.

Then I remembered, and the memory sat heavy on my chest.

Birdie Rasmussen stood in the doorway with my boots in one hand and a mug in the other.

"Greta sent word," she said. "The boy came to her door at dawn. Marcy's in a car at the bottom of the lane, planning to leave tonight."

"With me," I said.

"That's what the boy said."

"I'm not going anywhere with her."

"Good." She put the mug on the crate beside the cot. "Drink that. Then take my truck."

"Your truck?"

"Your car's in Greta's drive, and she won't want you in her drive." She dropped the keys on the quilt. "Bring it back with gas in it."

I looked at the keys.

"It's daylight," Birdie said. "Go on."

My hands were white on the wheel before I reached the highway.

The road ran south along the lake through bare birches, and the sun was hard on the snow.

I could do this.

I had done it once on Friday, and I could do it now.

Then I came around the bend before the cemetery, and the pines stood where they always stood.

I slowed to a crawl.

There was a cross on the shoulder, and a plastic wreath faded almost white.

For three years I had passed that wreath in other people's cars with my eyes shut.

This time I kept them open.

I pulled over by the gate and put the truck in park and sat there until my breathing slowed.

Then I drove on.

Carl's parents lived in a yellow house in Two Harbors, with a bird feeder in the yard.

His mother opened the door in her robe.

She looked at my face and then past me to the empty drive.

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