Chapter 13I woke up the following morning and continued my cozy time with Emma by shopping. Fighting traffic to get to the mall on a Saturday morning was never an issue in Wharton County. Emma and I parked the car—she insisted on choosing the exact spot and helping navigate from the back seat—and skipped all the way to the north entrance. We played a few games of Frogger and Pac-Man, both of which Emma said had very poor graphics—evidence of the downside to a child being brought up on iPads and other digital technology. She giggled as the ghosts captured me in a few corners and told me I must be getting old if I couldn't run away from a ghost floating as slow as molasses. Since children hardly know enough to sugarcoat anything related to an adult's age, I tousled her hair and told her she
