She was cold, so cold. She leaned her head against the steering wheel, gulping in deep breaths of hot air, realizing only then that she had entombed herself in the closed car. Her fingers fumbled as she opened the window next to her. Then she reached for the passenger side. The folder slid off the seat, scattering the clippings onto the floorboard. Fraud. Fake. Hoax. Swindle. Words from the headlines jumped out at her, laughing. How could she have been so wrong? Sarah dragged her eyes from the scattered papers, looking blindly out the windshield. Waves of heat rose from the paved surfaces, curving and distorting distinct lines into illusory images. Sarah blinked as the recognized the figure walking toward her from the opposite side of the street. Instinctively she turned the key in the ignition. She couldn't talk to T.J. Not now. She couldn't talk to anyone. The engine coughed once, then roared to life. Sarah quickly steered the car away from the curb, forced her lips into a semblance of a smile and gave her cousin a wave as she drove past.
