We took Emmaline on what promised to be a particularly stormy night. It wasn’t hard to do, especially since all the police and alarm company people were right there in the mob with us.
They could not afford the honeymoon Alicia wanted most — mossy-hilled Ireland or terraced, pastel Cinque Terre — but she managed to find a getaway closer nearby, in Cape Meares, that would still feel far from home.
Yael’s parents ask if she has any questions, and she does, but she suspects they aren’t the right ones. She wants to know if she will have two toothbrushes now or if she will bring the same one back and forth, its bristles wrapped in shredding tissue to keep from getting germy.
They’ve finally done it, found a way to kill us all. This is how my father greets me on the phone this morning. “It’s on Channel 7,” he says.