Emma
As Kyle walked away, my mind went back to my brief lesson on New Orleans. I couldn’t recall Rett mentioning a park boy. Did it mean someone who was at a park?
Low voices turned my attention away from the front of the house to the back, through the kitchen windows. The two people who had been in here when we entered were now out on a back porch. For a moment, I wavered between asking them for help and following Kyle to learn what had happened and maybe learn about Ian. If I were becoming truthful with myself, I cared about him too.
Getting home was my first desire.
Standing taller, I looked one way and the other.
I made my decision.
After all, when would I have another opportunity to speak to anyone?