It wasn’t like Zoe to relax where anyone else could see. But the car was warm and he didn’t jabber at her, probably conscious of his own utter impossibility. The silence was full of a restful thrumming, wheels on pavement—it had been a long time since she was in a car instead of a bus, or just plain walking. Miles slipped smoothly away underneath her, easy-peasy, and the slick-haired driver wore a dark suit and tan leather gloves like in the movies. Tiny sneaking glances at the guy next to her—her brother, he said, and he knew Mama’s name—always returned the same information.
Blond, dark eyes, good suit, heavy gold watch, red ring. He just…sat there, calmly, like this was a regular Thursday for him. A limousine, a driver, getting on a plane, New York.
Sure.
Life was all about adapting,
