43
The scene with Turtle made me uneasy, and my anxiety hadn’t abated when we reached Roger’s neighborhood a few minutes later. I pulled over a few houses away from Roger’s and idled, watching.
“So Roger’s rich, huh?” Addy asked.
“It certainly looks that way, doesn’t it?” I said. With someone else, I might have made the distinction, upper middle class. For Addy, currently homeless and in foster care most of her life, rich would do. I wondered how Roger would describe his financial status.
Roger’s neighbor on one side had fully enclosed his lot. The only break in the six-foot-high brick wall was a metal gate that—I’d noticed when I stayed with Roger previously—the neighbor’s car barely squeaked through. On Roger’s other side, the white columns of a large plantation-style house practical
