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datatime: 2022-11-30 19:03:27 Author:qgqdqLFQ

"Is this it?" Gil says.

"Damn it." Gil brings the Saab to a halt and gets out. "Paul"

I can hear it in his voice, the accusation sneaking in. Everything returns to the moment I pushed Taft.

Paul knocks again, then pulls a ring of keys from his pocket and cradles one into the slot. Putting a shoulder into the wood, he sweeps the door forward. Hinges squeal.

But Paul is already inside, scanning the first floor. Without a word, he's deep into the house.

"He's still at the police station," Paul says, almost to himself. "The lights are off."

"Damn it." Gil brings the Saab to a halt and gets out. "Paul"

"Damn it." Gil brings the Saab to a halt and gets out. "Paul"

"Threatening you with the letter?"

"I'm the one who called the police too," he says.

"Paul" I get out of the car, trying to keep my voice at a whisper.

"We can't do this," I say as I walk toward them, trying for some authority.

"You lied to them."

"He's still at the police station," Paul says, almost to himself. "The lights are off."

"Is this it?" Gil says.

"Is this it?" Gil says.

I'm waiting for Gil to react, but he keeps his eyes on the road. Staring at the back of Paul's head, I have the strange sensation of looking at myself from behind, of being inside my father's car again.

"We can't do this," I say as I walk toward them, trying for some authority.

"What do we do?" Gil says, beside him.

Paul knocks again, then pulls a ring of keys from his pocket and cradles one into the slot. Putting a shoulder into the wood, he sweeps the door forward. Hinges squeal.

The wind hisses around the door as he opens it, muffling his words. I can see Paul mouth something to us, pointing at the house. He begins hiking toward it in the snow.

Slush sprays the undercarriage of the car as the suspension dances over a pothole.

The wind hisses around the door as he opens it, muffling his words. I can see Paul mouth something to us, pointing at the house. He begins hiking toward it in the snow.

I'm waiting for Gil to react, but he keeps his eyes on the road. Staring at the back of Paul's head, I have the strange sensation of looking at myself from behind, of being inside my father's car again.

The wind whips through the columns of the fa?ade, licking puffs of snow from the eaves. The window next door goes black. When Paul gets no answer, he tries to turn the knob, but the lock holds fast.

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