“Speaking of Jillian. Can you text her and let her know where we are?”
“Sure.”
Robert stops the ATV in the midst of three dozen vehicles of various sizes and styles, all at the downward slope of an elegant amphitheater, complete with an earthen stage down front. Some workers she does not know are busy working on a public address system on the stage. Many others are already gathered on the layering tiers of earth sitting on blankets or the bare grass.
It should be dark by now, and the air is teeming with electric anxiety. In the walk down the incline toward the stage, Emma can hear women praying in Spanish, children playing about them on the ground. She spies two huge tubs of ice with bottled sodas and beers, but it is not a party atmosphere. Lots of people were on their cellphones, but
