Текст книги "Coming Home"

Автор книги: Priscilla Glenn

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Текущая страница: 23 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

“The following people have been requested at the visitor’s center: Benjamin King, Daniel DeLuca, Michael Moroney, Steven Logan, Kevin Driscoll, and Duane Tanner.”

Danny stood from his chair, putting his playing cards on the table. “You just got lucky,” he said, revealing his hand.

Theo lifted his brow at Danny’s straight flush. “Well, shit. Thank your visitor for me.”

Danny smiled as he turned to exit the rec room. If Jake had shown up just five minutes later, Danny would have undoubtedly won the pot.

Thirty-seven postage stamps.

It was their only real form of currency, and something most prisoners took very seriously. Rory, the inmate-turned-barber, charged five stamps per haircut. Terrence, the guy who ironed prisoners’ jumpsuits on visitation days, charged three stamps for his services. Any favor asked, any bet made, typically involved an exchange of stamps. After two months in this place, Danny still felt like a kid playing with Monopoly money.

He approached the inmates’ entrance to the center, noticing that Marco was the guard outside today. He nodded a hello to Danny before he opened the door and gestured for Danny to enter.

“Arms out, please,” he said, and Danny lifted his arms.

“You catch that game last night?” Marco asked as he patted Danny down.

Danny gave a short laugh. “Yeah. I wish I didn’t.”

“Unbelievable,” Marco said. “Highest payroll in the MLB. Sure as shit didn’t look like it yesterday.”

“A lot of those guys haven’t been hungry for a long time,” Danny said, turning so Marco could pat down his other leg. “These owners throw money at their best guys, forgetting that money makes some people complacent.”

Marco lifted his brow before he inclined his head in acknowledgement. “Very well-said.” He straightened, and Danny dropped his arms. “Alright, who you got today?”

“A buddy of mine,” Danny said.

Marco nodded as he checked his watch and then recorded the start time of the visit on his clipboard.

“Alright then, Mr. DeLuca,” he said, reaching forward and opening the door for him. “Enjoy your time.”

“Thanks,” Danny replied as he stepped around him and through the door.

He walked into the visitor’s center and turned toward the table and chairs set up near the vending machine where Jake typically preferred to sit, only to find an older couple seated there, waiting for an inmate.

Danny smirked as he realized Jake would have to walk a full fifteen feet to get his Skittles now. He typically went through four or five bags per visit, as if they were a luxury he could only get there and not something he could pick up in twenty different places on the way home.

Danny turned, scanning the other side of the room for him.

And then he froze.

She was sitting at the far table against the window, her eyes on him as she rolled her mother’s bracelet between her fingers.

It had been over a month since he’d seen her—over a month since he’d had any contact with her whatsoever—but the sight of her hadn’t even come close to losing its potency.

He couldn’t afford this kind of test today. His daydreams of her, when they were furtive enough to creep in uninvited, were bad enough.

Ironically, his worst days in this place were the days he found it the easiest to be without her. At his lowest points, Danny managed to find solace and comfort in being alone—in knowing that the only person he stood to hurt was himself. The days he felt demeaned to the point of detachment, the days his thoughts ran rampant through dark corners and bleak paths for hours at a time, unable to resurface, the days he struggled to even remember a life outside these walls—those were the days he was so grateful she was out of his life. In a way it was pacifying, knowing he could spin as far out of control as he wanted with absolutely no consequences for her.

But then there were other days.

Days that Danny somehow made it to “lights out” feeling somewhat like himself. Days he was able to keep a rein on his thoughts, steering them out of sinister waters. Days when he could see an end in sight—no matter how far off it might seem—and all at once there was something to strive for.

Those were the days his heart felt like it was being shredded.

Because when things were good, he thought about her constantly. Wondering if he’d made the wrong decision. How she was holding up. Whether or not she was angry with him.

Wondering if there was even the slightest chance she might take him back when this was all over.

He wasn’t sure it would even be possible to earn back her trust after everything he’d done, but on his good days, Danny promised himself he’d exhaust every avenue and deplete every resource trying.

And today had been decent for him, which meant it was a horrible day to attempt a conversation with her.

He couldn’t allow this temporary sense of well-being to sway him, because tomorrow, it could be gone, and there would be no way to guarantee if or when it would come back.

Danny watched her shoulders rise as she took a deep breath, but her expression remained impassive as she watched him standing there, rooted to the ground.

He tried to summon the resistance he’d relied on so many times when the need for her pulled at him relentlessly. The same power that prevented him from dialing her number, despite the amount of times he’d gone into the call room to do exactly that. The same resistance that prevented him from sending her emails, despite the fact that he’d drafted several, only to delete them before logging out of the system.

Danny knew it wouldn’t be fair to allow the good days to give either of them false hope. He couldn’t call her on a good day and then abandon her when he was pulled back under. He couldn’t email her one day and then ask her to leave him alone the next.

And so he resisted every urge he had to reconnect with her.

But she was here. And he could feel the unmistakable tug in his body, his heart galloping in his chest.

He wanted so desperately to know what she was thinking in that moment. Why she had come. But he had absolutely no idea what the past month had looked like for her.

The one time Danny had given into an impulse and asked Jake about Leah, Jake’s response had been a lengthy tirade focusing on what a complete asshole Danny was being.

He vowed then and there never to bring her up with Jake again.

And he knew better than to ask Gram about her. She wouldn’t be as blunt as Jake, but her quiet disappointment in Danny’s decision would be even more cutting in its own way.

Danny didn’t need a lecture from anyone. He knew he was doing the right thing by letting her go, no matter what anyone else thought. No one else was in there with him. No one else was living his every day. So how could they even pretend to know what was best?

As he stood there, watching her watch him, there was a split second where he contemplated turning around. No good could come of this visit with her—he knew that—but the thought of walking away from her made his gut wrench. It was excruciating enough when he’d done it the first time, and he hadn’t prepared himself for the task of doing it again.

She wasn’t supposed to come back here.

He felt himself take a step in her direction before he’d even made a conscious decision to move, and then she stood, releasing her mother’s bracelet as her hands fell to her sides. He watched her curl and uncurl them into fists a few times before he lifted his eyes back to hers.

Now that he was closer, he could see the emotions fighting for control on her face: a knotty combination of sadness, fear, and determination.

Danny reached for the chair across from her and pulled it out. He could hear his heart beating in his ears as he sat before her, and Leah lowered herself into the chair, pulling her lower lip between her teeth.

For a few seconds, they sat there in silence.

Danny cleared his throat softly. “Jake?” he asked.

“Knows I’m here,” she responded softly, and Danny looked down and nodded slowly.

Silence.

“He said I could have his visit if I promised to bring him back some Skittles.”

Danny laughed before he could stop himself, and he glanced up to see her smiling uneasily. She reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear, and then her smile dropped at the same time her eyes did.

Leah took a deep breath, her eyes on her lap as she said, “A long time ago, I asked you to stop playing games. And you promised me that you’d never lie to me.” She looked up and met his gaze. “I came here because I need to know the truth about something.”

Danny nodded once. “Okay.”

She wet her lips, the determination temporarily winning out in her expression. “Why did you break up with me?”

Danny closed his eyes before he exhaled. Goddamn it. He’d been prepared to answer any question but that one.

“Leah,” he said weakly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want you to tell me the truth.”

The seconds ticked by, hollow and unforgiving.

“Is it because you really don’t want me anymore?” she asked.

Danny rubbed his hand over his eyes. “Don’t do this, Leah.”

“It’s a simple question,” she said, completely undeterred by his plea. “All I’m asking for is honesty.”

Danny looked down at his hands. There was no answer he could come up with that wouldn’t send him down a path he refused to travel down with her.

“Are you afraid the truth will hurt me?” she asked. “Don’t be. Nothing you can say now will hurt me more than the words you said last time.”

Danny’s head snapped up; her eyes were on him, her expression unapologetic.

Her words hung in the air between them, acrid and insufferable, and Danny had to look away. He could feel little pinpricks in his chest, shame and self-loathing battling for control in his body.

“Do you still love me?” she asked.

He took a breath before he looked across the table at her. This time, there was nothing behind her eyes but vulnerability, and he knew if she deserved an honest answer to any question, it was this one.

“Yes,” he said gently.

“And do you still want to be with me?”

“Leah—”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Enough of the run-around. I want an answer, Danny. Because all of this,” she said, gesturing around them, “is only temporary. Don’t lose sight of that. And when this is over, what do you want? Do you want to start a new life with me? Do you want to come home to me every day? Do you want to have dinners with me, and go grocery shopping with me, and watch crappy TV together, and make love to me while we listen to our song? Do you want to get Christmas trees together, and go on vacations, and have babies? Do you want to take bubble baths with me, and teach me things in the garage, and hold me every night while we fall asleep?”

Danny’s chest constricted, squeezing and compressing with vice-like intensity until it sent his heart up into his throat. What she had described was so agonizingly beautiful, it felt like there wasn’t enough room in his body to accommodate it.

It had been so long since he’d allowed himself a fantasy of that caliber. Dreams like that cost too much to entertain inside these walls.

But her words were warm and palliative in his veins, and for a moment, envisioning what she described didn’t feel torturous. It wasn’t a cruel act of masochism. It wasn’t a hopeless pipedream.

Because Leah was sitting in front of him, momentarily turning that fantasy into a promise.

He should have been used to it by now; from the moment she came into his life, she started reviving him—making him feel again, making him appreciate things, helping him learn how to forgive himself, making him think he was someone worthy of love. And here she was, offering to save him all over again.

He wanted to let her. God, he wanted everything she had described and more. He wanted to give her things she’d never even thought to ask for.

And for a split second, with her looking at him the way she was, he believed he could have it all with her.

“Do you want that life with me?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Two answers bubbled up into his throat simultaneously—the sincere one and the safe one—and Danny felt like he was choking on their scuffle.

Leah’s gentle eyes implored him for a response, but he couldn’t open his mouth, too afraid that the wrong answer would escape.

Instead, he nodded.

The tension in her shoulders melted instantly as her eyes pooled with tears.

“But Leah,” he said quickly, “I can’t make you promises like that. I don’t know who’s gonna be coming home to you.”

Danny ran his hands up through his hair; he could feel the words backing up in his throat, clogging like a traffic jam of candid statements desperately seeking an outlet.

And all at once, he lost the will to inhibit them anymore.

“This place, Leah,” he said, shaking his head. “I feel myself bending to it. Every day, I bend a little more. I’m doing my best. I’m learning how to manage my thoughts, and I’m trying so hard to keep myself…me.” He looked up at her. “But some days, no matter what I do…it’s just not enough. And I just don’t know how many times I can bend before I break.”

“But it’s okay if you bend,” she said earnestly. “It’s okay if you break. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I don’t want that,” he said with a firm shake of his head.

“Don’t want what?”

“I don’t want you to see it. Or to wait for me only to learn at the end of all this that I’ve become someone you can’t see yourself with anymore. It’s so much harder than I thought to be away from you all. And sometimes I just…I go to a dark place, and I’m not even me anymore. I don’t want you to have to deal with it. I’m not going to ask you to wait this out when I can’t guarantee you’ll be happy when it’s over. This is an ugly clusterfuck of a ride, Leah. And I don’t want you to be a passenger.”

Danny could feel his heart thrumming as he looked across the table at her. He had thought it would be humiliating to admit how he felt, but there was an odd sort of comfort in confessing his fears—like the weight of the burden had somehow lessened simply because he had allowed it outside of his body.

“Why did you sit in the room with Bryan when he died?”

Danny felt a tingle run down his spine. “What?” he asked, startled.

“Why did you go in when they turned everything off and let him go?” she asked. “Better yet, why did you go visit him, day after day, with all of those horrible tubes and machines attached to his body? When all the doctors said there was no hope. That he couldn’t even hear you. Why did you do it?”

A heaviness settled in his stomach, quickly transitioning into a wrenching pain.

“Because he…because I…” Danny shook his head and trailed off, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“I know exactly why,” she said gently, reaching over and pulling one of his hands away from his face. He dropped the other to the table as she intertwined their fingers, running her thumb over the side of his hand. “It’s the same reason I sat with my father every night for two weeks, praying by his bedside. It’s the same reason Holly and Robyn have been taking turns coming to my apartment every day for the past month, despite the fact that I’ve been miserable and wretched and depressing to be around.”

She gave his hand a tiny squeeze. “Because when you love someone, you don’t bail when it gets hard. That’s when you stay the most.”

It felt like his throat was closing.

“And it’s not always easy,” she said, running her thumb over his hand again. “It’s hard to watch someone you care about suffer. But when you love someone, you do it. You do it without question or reservation. You do it because there’s no other option—because the thought of being without them is a hundred times more excruciating than bearing their burden.” She leaned over and brought his hand to her mouth, kissing the back of it before she said, “And I love you, Danny. You made it so easy to fall in love with you. You’re funny, and loyal, and patient, and selfless.” Her eyes welled with tears. “And you’re considerate, and honest, and intelligent, and compassionate. And you were able to become all of those things—to maintain all of those things—in the face of all the shit life handed you.” She smiled a watery smile. “And I know that’s who you’re still going to be when you come back to me.”

She released his hand to swipe at the tears on her cheeks. “So that’s me, being honest with you,” she said with a sniffle. “There’s no doubt we’re both going to suffer through this. I’ve always known that. Some days will be bearable and some will be completely miserable. But I’ve made my decision. I know what I’m up against, and I know what I want. I want you. And I want us. I want our life together.”

It felt like his heart might come out of his chest; like a strange current was running through his body, making his breath erratic and his muscles feel like they were humming.

“My father once told me that if something seems too hard, before you give up, you should always ask yourself if the reward will be worth the suffering.” She took a deep breath. “So I guess what it comes down to…what I need to know…is whether or not I’m worth the suffering to you.”

Danny rested his elbows on the table and dropped his forehead to his clasped hands. He could feel his chin trembling, and he inhaled slowly, trying to pull himself back together.

The magnificence and purity of her love for him—the all-consuming force of it—could break him and heal him simultaneously. It could destroy him and piece him back together, better than he was before.

And it could restore his faith faster than this place could take it.

Danny remembered wondering once how anyone could keep his head above water here. And suddenly he realized—this was how. When you have something to hold on to. A reason to fight every day. A beautiful lifeline pulling you through to the other side.

The guys who don’t have it—or the ones who are foolish enough to let go—those are the guys that go under.

He thought he could save her by letting her go, but he’d had it all backward.

She wasn’t the one who needed saving this time.

“Leah,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I could suffer through anything if you were my reward.”

A smile curved her lips before she cupped her hand over her mouth and burst into tears.

Danny was out of his seat in an instant, walking around to her side of the table, and she stood, throwing her arms around his neck as he lifted her off the floor and buried his face in her hair.

“My sweet girl,” he whispered.

Her sob was muffled against the side of his neck, and he reached up and ran his hand over the back of her hair, glancing over at the guard standing by the door. He was watching them before his eyes found Danny’s.

For a moment, they just looked at each other.

And then the guard gave him a knowing look, followed by a quick nod. He shifted his body, focusing his attention on the other side of the room.

So Danny got to hold her for a few more seconds than was permitted.

The most enriching and restorative seconds of his entire life.

“Thank you,” Leah said as she reached for the glass of Pinot Grigio the waiter handed her, immediately bringing it to her lips.

“Another for you, miss?” he asked, looking at Alexis.

She eyed Leah before she smiled up at him sweetly. “No, thank you, I’m fine.”

“Okay then. Your food will be right out,” he said before he turned and left the table.

Alexis turned, her eyes landing on Leah’s half empty second glass of wine.

“Don’t judge me,” Leah said, placing the glass on the table. “I had a rough week. My classes are out of control.”

“Well, you’re off now. You should just relax. Don’t even grade anything if you don’t have to.”

“I have to finish one more class of essays, but after that I’m not doing a damn thing. I swear, the person who created February break did so to save lives.” Leah twirled the stem of her wine glass as she fought the urge to finish it off.

Alexis laughed as she glanced down at her cell phone, trying to be discreet but failing miserably.

Leah smirked. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

She blushed, realizing she was caught. “I know,” she said, slipping her phone into her purse. “I’m sure he’s fine. You’re right. I just…you know…you think he’d text me if he had a question, right?”

“Yes, I do,” Leah said, trying to stifle a laugh. “He’s fine. They’re fine. Don’t worry.”

Alexis nodded and exhaled heavily as she brought her glass to her lips, perking up as the waiter approached the table with their food.

Leah found it hysterical, the mini panic attacks Alexis had whenever she left the baby with Christopher. In her defense, something always seemed to go wrong while he was watching her, but in her brother’s defense, they were always inconsequential—and hilarious—things. The first time he watched her, he somehow managed to put her diaper on backward. Another time, after the baby had gotten food on the outfit she was wearing, he had changed her clothes, and Alexis came home from the hair salon to find Savanna wearing her very beautiful—and very expensive—christening dress while crawling around outside.

“So,” Leah said, “tell me what you need me to do for the party.”

“I think we’re all set,” she said. “You’re making your spinach artichoke dip, right?”

Leah nodded, and Alexis looked up at the ceiling, running through some invisible list in her mind. “Yeah, so I think we’re good. If you could come a little bit early to help me set up, that would be awesome,” she said, twirling her fork in her pasta. She froze with the bite halfway to her mouth. “Is it supposed to be this crazy planning a one-year-old’s birthday party? I don’t even want to think about her sweet sixteen.”

“Or her wedding,” Leah added with a smile, and Alexis laughed.

“Don’t go there. If we even joke about her dating, Christopher gets all bent out of shape.”

“He’s such a tool,” Leah said, and Alexis laughed around her sip of wine. “I can’t believe she’s a year old already.”

“I know.” Alexis sighed.

The night Savanna had been born was the same night Danny found out he had a sentencing date.

An entire year ago.

It seemed like another lifetime, but at the same time, she could remember it like it was yesterday. In the nine months since Danny had been gone, her sense of time had been stuck in a sort of limbo; sometimes things felt rushed and blurry, and other times they dragged on painfully. Sometimes it seemed like both things were occurring at once.

“Danny can’t get over how much she looks like you,” Leah said, and Alexis smiled.

“How’s he doing, by the way?”

Leah took a tiny breath. “He’s as okay as he can be.” She shrugged, pushing the food around on her plate.

“When do you get to see him again?”

“Saturday,” Leah said.

“Do you like…get quality time with him when you go?” she asked tentatively, as if she were unsure whether to continue on with this line of conversation or change the subject.

“We don’t get conjugal visits, if that’s what you’re asking,” Leah said, trying to lighten the mood. She had gotten good at putting on a mask, displaying the proverbial stiff upper lip. She hated when people worried about her over this, treating her with kid gloves and tiptoeing around topics of conversation. Leah knew they were doing it out of concern, but it only served to make her feel weak, like deep down they knew she couldn’t handle it.

That her fortitude was all just a charade.

She hated it, because sometimes it was true, and she didn’t need the reminder.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Alexis said with a tiny laugh, the curiosity overpowering the hesitancy in her eyes. “I meant, can you really talk? Can you touch him? Or is it…”

She trailed off, and at that moment, Leah wanted to jump across the table and hug her sister-in-law. While it still wasn’t the easiest thing for her to talk about, it was the first time in a long time anyone had really broached the subject with her, inviting her to talk about it rather than trying to distract her from it.

All at once she felt like she might cry from gratitude.

Leah sat up a bit straighter. “Um…we can hug and kiss when I get there, and when I leave,” she said, thinking of how much she looked forward to those simple, chaste actions. “And if the guard on watch is nice, we can hold hands above the table.”

She nodded. “Is that weird for you? Not being able to touch him the way you want to?”

Leah inhaled deeply. “Not really. I mean, I’m kind of used to it now.”

“And you guys are…still okay?” she asked, growing more comfortable with her questions as Leah continued to answer with no signs of breaking down.

Leah nodded. “We’re getting by. It’s just that…” She trailed off, lifting her wine glass quickly and taking a sip to swallow the lump in her throat.

“Do you want to stop talking about this?” Alexis asked gently, and Leah shook her head.

“Actually, no, I don’t,” she said through a tearful smile. “This is good. I know it doesn’t look that way,” she added through a laugh, gesturing at herself as she blinked back tears, “but it’s good.”

Alexis smiled as she reached across the table and squeezed Leah’s hand, and Leah took a breath before she continued.

“I’m always scared, I guess. I’m afraid that I’ll lose him again. That he’ll have a bad day, or a bad week, and decide we’re better off apart. Every visit, every time he calls, every letter—I’m always so excited, but at the same time, a little part of me is terrified of what he might say,” she said, wiping under her eyes with her thumbs. “It just sucks being afraid all the time,” she added before she lifted her glass and finished the wine.

Alexis lifted her hand and gestured for the waiter to bring her another.

“You’re turning into quite the enabler,” Leah said, and Alexis laughed softly.

“But…you don’t feel like he’s pulling away again, do you?”

Leah shook her head. “No. We’ve been doing really well. We’ve got our routine now. And he’s getting really good about talking through his bad days instead of shutting down. It’s just that…until he’s home, a little part of me will always be waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Alexis nodded. “That’s understandable. But you’re almost halfway there now, right?”

“Well, we’re hoping he’s going to be eligible for good time served. If he is, that means we’ve already passed the halfway mark.”

“Wait, what do you mean? What’s good time served?”

“Basically it’s a sentence reduction for good behavior. He has to serve a minimum of eighty percent of his sentence, but if he reaches that without incident, they can decide to let him out.”

“So then he’d be getting out in…” Alexis pursed her lips, trying to do the math.

“Seven more months.”

“Oh my God, Leah, that’s great!”

Leah nodded. “I’m trying not to get my hopes up. We’ll see.”

Alexis smiled up at the waiter as he brought Leah’s third glass of wine to the table. “So you get to see him every other Saturday?”

“Usually. I switch off with Catherine and Jake, but sometimes I have to go every third Saturday if his mother and sister want to rotate in.”

“Okay, because I’ve been meaning to ask you, I have a few things for him. Some books and magazines. Can I give those to you to bring, or should I send them?”

“Send them,” she said. “They have to pass inspection before he can have them. I’m not allowed to bring anything into the facility when I go.”

“Inspection?” Alexis asked, taking a bite of her pasta. “What, like someone could hide a shiv in a magazine?”

Leah laughed. “No, it’s more for content. They can’t have anything R-rated or pornographic.”

“Oh,” Alexis said with a nod of her head. “Bummer.” Leah smirked as she added, “No porn, though. It’s some stuff your brother picked out. A bunch of automotive magazines. I have no idea if they’re the ones he reads or not.”

“If it’s car stuff, he’ll love it,” Leah said. “Honestly, he’ll pretty much read anything now. My dad sent him some book on US history a few weeks ago and he read it cover to cover. I keep telling him it’s a pity he had to be incarcerated in order to become a good English student.”

Alexis laughed loudly, cupping her hand over her mouth when the people at the next table looked in her direction, and Leah laughed too, feeling momentarily carefree.

“Thank you,” Leah said suddenly, and Alexis’s expression softened as she looked across the table at her.

“You’re welcome.”

They finished their meal, and as they hugged their good-byes in the parking lot of the restaurant, Leah had never felt closer to her.

As soon as she was inside her car, she rummaged through her purse and pulled out her phone before hitting the speed dial for Catherine.

After a few rings, her soft, raspy voice came through the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hi, it’s me,” Leah said as she started the car.

“Hi, sweetheart. How are you doing today?”

“I’m good. About a six today. You?”

“Hmm,” she hummed. “Maybe a five.”

“You should have a few glasses of wine,” Leah suggested. “That’s always good to add a point or two.”

Catherine chuckled.

They spoke on the phone two or three times a week, and early on they’d come up with the number system to let each other know what kind of day they were having. Ten meant they were feeling great, and one was total meltdown.

“What time will you be here on Saturday?” Catherine asked.

“Probably around four or five? Depends on if they’re running things on time over there,” she said, pulling out of her parking space. It had become an unspoken tradition that after visiting Danny on her Saturdays, Leah would stop off at Catherine’s on the way home and have dinner with her.

“Okay. How does eggplant rollantini sound for dinner?”

“Delicious,” she said, “but you know you don’t have to cook for me.”

“Leah, old Italian ladies live to feed people. Don’t take that away from me.”

She laughed as she merged onto the highway. “Okay, you win.”

“Alright sweetheart. I don’t want you to get a ticket for being on the phone with me while you’re driving. Thank you for checking in, and I’ll see you Saturday.”

“Okay. Call me before then if you drop below a five.”

“I will. Bye now.”

“Bye,” Leah said before she cleared the screen, tossing the phone onto her passenger seat.

And then she reached to turn the radio off, allowing the silence to fill the car.

For whatever reason she just felt like thinking today.