XXXIII
The Civic's engine roared across the asphalt of the road. Michael kept his gaze straight ahead, without trembling, without sweating, without doubting his reflexes or his memory to remember the entire way to his home. Michael knew beforehand that there were cameras along the road, so he had to leave his direct trail to his house. Rachel slept pleasantly and forcefully in the back seat, hopping from time to time in response to the impact of the bumpy rear tires. Michael was glancing at her in the rearview mirror. Although there were no people around to see what was inside the car, he wanted to maintain the momentum and the image of going alone on that trip. The next traffic light stopped him red. A wedding couple —who noticed by how they held hands and arms affectionately— p
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