CHAPTER 16: MORITURI TE SALUTAMUSTHE SAME CHILLY RUSH AS bodysurfing: you’re poised in water up to your waist, and Wo-o-o here comes a wave. Choose! Duck and let it crash over you, or swim like mad and ride it to shore?
A dozen apprehensions roiled Lydia’s mind as she drove. Should I—? Will he—?
Shut up, Lydia. Just keep his headlights in your rearview mirror.
He didn’t change his mind and bolt for home. She didn’t ask him to park on the street, out of sight of Edgar Rowdey’s windows. Dave’s green Prius followed her yellow Morris Minor around the town green, through the gap in the hedge, onto the scraggly grass between Edgar’s black VW wagon and his giant magnolia tree.
They walked up the gentle slope behind the main house. Edgar’s upstairs lights were still on.
“So what do you think
