I Couldn’t Remember Hearing Anyone Come Back Upstairs

school.”

So I did.

The parking lot. The blue sedan. The milkshakes. The woman. Pizza. Movies. Nails. Melissa going for blankets.

Pruitt stopped me.

“The woman in the sedan. Could you describe her?”

“Forties maybe. Brown hair. Short. Gold hoop earrings. Green scrubs under a fleece jacket.”

He wrote that down.

Dad said, “Scrubs?”

“Yeah. I thought maybe she’d continue reading …