My brain hurt from working overtime with all the scenarios I concocted in regards to Ronnie’s murder. The facts I was sure of made no sense to the end result. The speculations made even less sense. Nothing made sense except the woman beside me, and the sleeping boy behind me. I’d always approached my job in a very clinical manner. I was finding it impossible to channel the professionalism I needed when normally working a case. My heart raced at the thought of all I suddenly had to lose. I reached for her hand, grabbing it a bit more forcefully than I had intended. “What’s wrong?” she asked with the dashboard lights illuminating half her face. “Are you okay?” “I am right now.” Turning my attention back to the dark roads I navigated, I lifted our hands and kissed the back of hers. Angela didn’t push, sensing my thoughts were elsewhere and letting me have the time to think. When I glanced her way the soft glow of her Kindle clearly showed the thoughtful expression on her face.
