“Sydney, get in!” Dad said, waving his arm frantically.
The knowledge that Dad was never frantic was the only thing that kept me from crying in relief when I saw him.
The stranger climbed in the passenger side. My thighs screamed, stepping up into the RV after him, and Dad accelerated as soon as the door closed. I fell into the passenger captain’s chair and buckled up while the ragged-looking guy landed on the sofa behind Dad. He wore a dark T-shirt over dark, too-large work pants, and flip-flops for shoes. His face was shadowed, but I could see his relatively short hair sticking out in all directions. Like mine must be.
“I’m Sam,” he said, handing me a bottle of water.
I caught a whiff of his body odor, but having spent the evening climbing rooftops and sprinting through smoky neighbo
