I shrug as we pull onto the highway, the heat in our rental car cranked to its highest setting.My suitcase bumps against my seat every time Alex changes lanes, gaining speed.“I tried.But it was really hard, you know?” “I don’t,” he confesses, “but I can understand it.I’m just wondering if…you know, just showing up at his office is the best thing to do.” “I tried,” I say again, and finally, Alex drops it.I don’t add just how many times I tried: the dozens of times I’ve called the number of Collierville Insurance, my heart thundering in time with that chirpy, electronic ring.The way my mouth cakes up as soon as the receptionist picks up.How she asks, “Hello?” in the exact same voice—polite, sing-songy, and with a heavy Southern twang—exactly four times before, finally, hanging up on the silence that is me. “Nothing like a road trip,”
