Chapter 6: Twenty-Four Hours

By morning the comments under my clip were split in half.

Most of them said I was right.

Some of them said *panic disorder??* and *this explains the video tbh.*

My clinic's front desk sent me a text at seven.

*The practice owner wants to talk about your return date. Call when you can.*

Nobody at that office had ever called me before eight.

I sat at Greg's kitchen table with Tilly asleep on my chest and the phone face down next to a bowl of oatmeal he had made me eat.

"You don't have to answer it," Greg said.

"I do."

"Not today."

"Today," I said. "She picked the thing I'm most ashamed of and said it into a camera. If I hide, I'm what she says."

"What are you going to do?"

"Go to the only place where Garner listens," I said. "His job."

Greg did not argue.

He put on his jacket and picked up the car keys.

We reached the dealership at ten past ten.

It sat on Cleveland Avenue with a row of white trucks out front, and a banner that said FALL SALES EVENT.

Inside, the showroom was full of the smell of floor cleaner and burned coffee.

Customers stood around the trucks, and salesmen stood around the customers.

Garner's glass office stood at the back.

He was in it, on the phone, with his face red.

I walked straight across the floor with Tilly in the carrier.

"Ma'am?" a salesman said. "Can I help you?"

"I'm Kira Ferris," I said. "I mean Haskell. I'm here to see my husband."

Garner saw me through the glass.

He hung up and came out fast.

"Kira. What are you doing here? Not here."