A tempest had finished twenty minutes sooner, but there was a foreboding, purple mists out before Robert's vehicle. They were rapidly moving toward the north and the sun was beginning to sparkle. Both of his windows were down, and the thick air was rocking his hair. It smelled fresh and clean. He watched the steam ascending from the asphalt as it dried. He cherished how it felt after a fast season storm. It helped him to remember more straightforward times.

At the point when he at long last got up that morning, he figured he would track down his sister and ask her for what good reason she did it....