with remains, that portrait staring me down in the rearview. Rain started up at the Omaha city limits, and we didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t talk much as the strip malls, car lots, mazes of storage units, wounded beige apartment buildings and truck stops gave way to ash-gray fields left and right and a parade of tired billboards all welcoming us. The wipers chugged. Tires hissed. The Cruiser drifted over standing water and traffic was light. At times I held Jennyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s bare forearm and wrist feeling her tremble as she quietly snored against the fogged and rattling passenger window.
34| PHOEBE 48.2