Danielle's car stopped at the gates less than twenty minutes after the call.

She did not bother with a polite entrance. She got out, took one look at my face, and pointed at the passenger door.

"Get in. We're not doing the long hallway conversation where someone pretends to water plants and listens."

Sometimes she doesn't make a lick of sense but, I got in.

For the first stretch of road she only drove. Then she glanced sideways.

"Talk."

"Sam cleared out my closet," I said. "Most of it. Put other things in their place. Things I never chose."

Danielle's hands tightened on the wheel.

I wanted to tell her...