Chapter 22: The 5:10

On Monday at ten, the twins drove their cars to the dealership for the last time.

I rode in the back of Brett's, because Kayla had asked me to come, and Esther followed in her Buick.

Nobody turned on the radio.

The dealership was a glass showroom off Route 11, with flags and a banner that said SUMMER SELLDOWN.

A man in a short-sleeved shirt came out to meet us with a clipboard.

He walked around Brett's car once, then around Kayla's, and he made little marks.

"Beautiful condition," he said. "Not a scratch. Under six thousand miles each."

"We didn't drive them much," Brett said. "Mostly to the lake."

The man laughed, then saw our faces and stopped.

The paperwork took an hour at a desk with two plastic chairs.

The lawyer had handled the titles, and a letter from him lay on the desk beside the keys.

The man printed two checks and slid them across.

Brett looked at his for a while.

"It's less than we paid," he said.

"Cars lose value the second they leave the lot."

"Sure."

Brett wrote Hallie Anne Braeburn Trust on the back of his check, in block letters, and underneath it, in smaller ones, his own name.

Kayla's pen shook while she did the same.

When she finished, she did not hand the check to me.

She put it on the desk and sat looking at her car key on the counter.

Keep reading free with an account. Start My Future Doesn't Have Room for You from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.