When the Signal Dies, Love Is Logistics—and Every Choice Has a Cost

he said, voice rough. “Okay. Thank you.”

I tossed the blanket through the cracked window. I tossed the hand warmers after it.

Then, because I wasn’t heartless and I wasn’t trying to make a point, I added, “When the dog’s wrapped, run your engine for five minutes. Then off for fifteen. Keep the exhaust clear. Don’t fall asleep with it running.”

He stared continue reading …