“Well, what’d your aunt say?” Barrett asked as we got out of my car.
The ride from his house to the repair shop had been silent punctuated only when Barrett gave me directions.
“I called but she didn’t answer. I’ll go see her after,” I said and looked beyond him at the repair shop where the car had been towed after the accident. “Barrett, does anyone know Hilary was in the car?” I was glad Barrett had said her name back at his apartment. Saying it aloud seemed to pull her closer from wherever she was.
He shook his head. I wanted to say more but an attendant had come up and started to talk to Barrett.
“This way,” the attendant said. I fell in line behind Barrett and could only shake my head as we passed other cars in various states of accident and collision disrepair. I hated being arou
