Chapter 18: Sam's POV

Sam's POV

I waited in the car for forty minutes and did not touch the radio.

Jo's mother's house had a porch light and a row of parked cars down both sides of the street.

Once a man in a sport coat came out and stood on the lawn with his hands on his hips.

A woman followed and led him back inside.

Nobody else came out.

I kept my eyes on the front door and my hands on the wheel.

I had told Jo I would wait.

I had not told her I was afraid of what would come out of that door.

She had walked into that dining room with everything she needed to take her sister apart.

I knew her well enough by now to know she would do it.

I also knew she would walk out feeling worse than when she went in.

At ten past eight the door opened, and she came down the steps alone.

She walked to the car and got in.

She shut the door and sat looking through the windshield.

I started the engine.

"Don't," she said.

"I'm not saying anything."

"You were going to ask if I'm all right."

"I wasn't."

She turned her head and looked at me.

Her eyes were dry, and that was worse.

"Drive somewhere," she said. "Anywhere that isn't a house."

I took her to the all-night diner on Capital Boulevard, because it was the first place I thought of.

She ordered a coffee and didn't drink it.

I ordered pie and pushed it across to her, and she ate half.

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