Chapter 37

When I get out of the car, Caitlin sticks a foot out to keep me from shutting the door, then extracts herself from the back seat like a newborn hatching from an egg. “Damn,” she mutters, stomping her feet in the high grass. “Was it always this long before?”

A glance at my watch shows us actually ahead of schedule—it’s barely been seven hours since we left the house this morning. “We’re making good time,” I tell her. “We might even get there before Mom and Dad.”

“Probably not,” Caitlin says. She leans against the car, her arms folded on the roof, and watches Dan fiddle with the key in the trunk. “Dad doesn’t stop unless he’sthe one who has to take a piss.” I swat at her playfully, but she moves out of reach. “What? It’s true.”