Chapter 12: The Showroom

"I think I'll take Archie up for his bath," Willa said.

Her voice was bright and perfectly normal.

That was how I knew it was over.

She lifted Archie out of his booster seat and carried him up the stairs.

She did not look at Dane again.

Lydia murmured something about the bathroom and left a napkin on the floor.

Dane and I sat across from each other at the long oak table with the candle burning between us.

He cut a bite of pot roast and ate it.

"Sit down, Cal," he said.

I was already standing.

"I'll see you around."

"Don't be dramatic."

"Thanks for the toast," I said, and I left.

At six-fifty the next morning I was lying on the guest bed.

My phone started to shake against the nightstand.

Dane.

Then a text.

"Willa took Archie and left in the night. Is she at Mom's? You did this."

Then a second one, a minute later.

"Penrose Ford. Showroom. Now."

I read it twice.

Under it was a text from my mother, sent at ten past six.

"Willa and Archie are asleep in the den. Do not say a word to your brother until I say."

I got up and got dressed anyway.

Penrose Ford sits on Route 4, with forty feet of glass across the front.

A red, white and blue banner has said FAMILY OWNED SINCE 1981 for as long as I can remember.

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