Ally shifted in the passenger seat, listening to the radio on the short drive out of Kentville and back home. The local news came on, including a brief bit about the fire and that firefighter Chris Jackson had been taken to hospital with minor injuries. She supposed in the big scale of things, a broken arm was minor. But even a minor injury was going to sideline him for weeks. And there was no escaping the fact that he’d had a close call. She couldn’t stand the silent treatment any longer. The last words they’d spoken had been at the tea yesterday, and that didn’t sit well. Even if she’d been hurt, she didn’t like how they’d left things. And for all his stoic ways, her father had always been easier to talk to than her mother. “It’s very hard to tell what you’re thinking,” she said quietly, reaching over and turning down the radio. “Not much to say,” he answered. “Except that I’m sorry.” It wasn’t what she expected. “For what?” He looked over at her briefly before turning his attention to the road again.
