I pair my Bluetooth headphones to my phone and play some Amon Armarth, which was Dad’s favorite band before the end. He used to play it when we were on the freeway, going just close enough to the speed limit to not get pulled over.
I try not to think about that unsaid thing between me and Wyatt: that Dad’s driving might’ve played a part in getting him and Mom killed. Because he was always careful on the ice, right? But then, is careful relative? Maybe ‘careful’ for Dad is reckless for another, truly cautious man.
I need to run. I don’t let myself think about that, ever.
Soon, I’m out of the door, jogging down the street in the middle of the night, head ducked low and music roaring in my ears. I run until I can’t think anymore.
But here’s the thing: it doesn’t work. I do think. And I se
