Chapter 223: After The Gate.
CAMERON.
Driving back to the house was a lot calmer than when we were going out. We were more relaxed driving back because we had received something and were holding it carefully, the way you carry something you consider fragile.
My mother was crying throughout as we drove home. She wiped her face constantly to clean tears with the handkerchief. Her head turned towards the window. I noticed that her disposition was that of a woman who had decided her feelings were hers to manage. And not anyone else's to witness. My father watched the city with his window expression, storing something in the place where he kept things that mattered.
I focused on driving. Sedona was very still in the front seat. Not the managed stillness of before the gate, the other kind.
