My husband asked when my mother's money would become available while I was deciding which dress to bury her in.<\/p>\n
\u201cNot today, Daniel.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI wasn't trying to upset you.\u201d<\/p>\n
He stood in the bedroom doorway with a clean towel over his shoulder. I was sitting on the carpet beside an open suitcase, holding a blue dress against my knees.<\/p>\n
Mom had worn it to our fifteenth wedding anniversary dinner. There was a small repair inside the hem where she had caught it on a chair.<\/p>\n
Daniel watched me rub that repair between my fingers.<\/p>\n
\u201cI just thought there might be expenses.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI'll handle the expenses.\u201d<\/p>\n
He nodded, looking wounded by my tone, and I almost apologized.<\/p>\n
That was how many of our disagreements ended. He introduced something I wasn't ready to discuss; I objected; then somehow we spent the evening discussing the manner of my objection.<\/p>\n
I folded the dress.<\/p>\n
My mother, Eleanor Hayes, had died at seventy-one after a brief illness that left no time for the conversations people imagine they will have. We had discussed her blood pressure, a contractor's estimate, whether the soup I brought needed more salt.<\/p>\n
We had not discussed the possibility that her next hospital admission would be her last.<\/p>\n
At the funeral, Daniel kept his hand against my back.<\/p>\n
He accepted condolences when I couldn't speak. He found my missing coat. He brought me water in a paper cup and bent the rim so it was easier to drink.<\/p>\n
Those things were real.<\/p>\n
Later, I would have to learn how to remember them without using them to disprove what came afterward.<\/p>\n
My mother had built Hayes Table Catering from a rented commercial kitchen and a station wagon with one unreliable door.<\/p>\n
During school holidays, I folded napkins and stuck labels onto boxes. She paid me in actual money, counted into my palm, then asked whether I wanted to save half.<\/p>\n
\u201cPeople take your work more seriously when you do,\u201d she used to say.<\/p>\n
She sold most of the company years before she died, retaining a smaller interest and the building that housed its main kitchen. I knew she was comfortable. I didn't know what comfortable meant in numbers.<\/p>\n
Her house outside Greensboro had one bathroom with a sticking window. She kept empty jam jars because they had good lids.<\/p>\n
When Marissa Cole called after the funeral, I expected a list of practical duties.<\/p>\n
Instead, she asked me to visit her office without Daniel.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour mother wanted me to explain certain things directly to you.\u201d<\/p>\n
The request sounded formal enough to frighten me.<\/p>\n
Marissa had handled Mom's business matters for years. She wore reading glasses on a cord and kept a jar of ordinary pencils beside her computer.<\/p>\n
She placed an estate summary between us.<\/p>\n
Accounts. Investments. Property. Retained business interests.<\/p>\n
The total was approximately $2.1 million.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat isn't all cash,\u201d she explained. \u201cAnd the figures are estimates. There will be administration, decisions, and time.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at the page.<\/p>\n
Mom had listened to me complain about a broken dishwasher the previous spring. She had offered to buy me lunch while I waited for the repairman.<\/p>\n
Now I wondered whether she had wanted me to ask for help.<\/p>\n
Marissa seemed to recognize where my thoughts had gone.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour mother was proud of your independence. She wasn't testing you.\u201d<\/p>\n
That made me cry harder than the number had.<\/p>\n
Before I left, she handed me a sealed envelope containing a personal note and told me there was no urgency about reading it.<\/p>\n
I put it inside my handbag. For the next several weeks, I couldn't bear to open something my mother had deliberately prepared for a world without her.<\/p>\n
Daniel was waiting when I returned to Cary.<\/p>\n
He looked from my face to the folder.<\/p>\n
\u201cBad news?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
I told him the approximate amount while we sat on our bed.<\/p>\n
For a moment he said nothing.<\/p>\n
Then he reached for my hand.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour mother worked hard.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe did.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe'd want this to make life easier.\u201d<\/p>\n
I leaned against him. I was tired enough to accept that sentence as comfort.<\/p>\n
Over the following days, he began asking questions while we did ordinary things.<\/p>\n
At the grocery store, he wanted to know whether the building could be sold.<\/p>\n
While I loaded the dishwasher, he asked whether Marissa had given me a distribution schedule.<\/p>\n
At bedtime, he wondered whether separate accounts would make us feel like strangers.<\/p>\n
His parents were staying in our guest room while water damage was repaired at their townhouse. Their car was also at the dealership, a coincidence Judith treated as evidence that the entire month had been arranged against her.<\/p>\n
She liked our guest room but disliked the towels.<\/p>\n
Raymond washed his own coffee cup and always asked before opening a cabinet.<\/p>\n
One morning, Judith watched me sort envelopes at the kitchen table.<\/p>\n
\u201cA marriage shouldn't have little fenced-off territories.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked up.<\/p>\n
\u201cExcuse me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMoney. Property. These things become ugly when people start saying mine.\u201d<\/p>\n
Daniel kept spreading butter on his toast.<\/p>\n
I hadn't told either of his parents the amount.<\/p>\n
When I asked him about it later, he shrugged.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey're my parents.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt was my news.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cClaire, they're happy for you.\u201d<\/p>\n
That evening I moved the estate folder into the cabinet beside my work desk.<\/p>\n
I was a medical billing coordinator, accustomed to forms that looked harmless until a single box changed the meaning. Even so, when Daniel brought me the power-of-attorney document, my first feeling was gratitude.<\/p>\n
He had put adhesive arrows beside the signature lines.<\/p>\n
\u201cI can handle calls and paperwork while you deal with your mother's house.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow much authority does this give you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEnough to help.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat isn't an amount.\u201d<\/p>\n
His expression tightened.<\/p>\n
I told him I would have Marissa look at it.<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course,\u201d he said. \u201cBring a lawyer into it.\u201d<\/p>\n
The next afternoon, Marissa read the document and asked whether I understood its scope.<\/p>\n
I didn't.<\/p>\n
She explained that it went well beyond permission to collect mail or schedule appointments.<\/p>\n
I brought it home unsigned.<\/p>\n
Daniel stood at the stove, stirring sauce he had bought in a jar.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou let her talk you out of it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe explained it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSame thing.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don't want anyone to have that much control over my finances.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnyone?\u201d<\/p>\n
He put the spoon down.<\/p>\n
\u201cIs that what I am now?\u201d<\/p>\n
I remember the small red spot of sauce on the stovetop. I stared at it because looking at his face made me feel as though I had committed a cruelty.<\/p>\n
By the end of dinner, I had apologized for making him feel distrusted.<\/p>\n
The document remained unsigned.<\/p>\n
Two nights later, Victor Hale came to our gate.<\/p>\n
I was rinsing lettuce at the kitchen sink when the bell sounded. Daniel looked at the security screen and went outside without answering my question.<\/p>\n
Victor was broad through the shoulders, with gray hair cut close to his head. He wore a rain jacket although the evening was dry.<\/p>\n
He didn't shout.<\/p>\n
That made it easier to hear him.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou said your wife's inheritance would settle this.\u201d<\/p>\n
Daniel turned toward the open window.<\/p>\n
I saw the change in his face before he came over and pulled it shut.<\/p>\n
Their conversation continued beyond the glass.<\/p>\n
Victor pointed once toward the house. Daniel shook his head.<\/p>\n
When he returned, he washed his hands for an unusually long time.<\/p>\n
\u201cWho is he?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSomeone I did business with.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat business?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cA deal that hasn't worked out yet.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow much money?\u201d<\/p>\n
He shut off the tap.<\/p>\n
\u201cI'm not having an interrogation in my own kitchen.\u201d<\/p>\n
It was the first time I noticed how often he said his when he meant ours.<\/p>\n
That night I checked our joint account.<\/p>\n
The balance wasn't alarming. The mortgage had been paid. Utilities were current.<\/p>\n
I felt foolish for looking and more foolish for feeling relieved.<\/p>\n
A private debt would not necessarily appear beside our grocery purchases.<\/p>\n
I thought of calling Marissa, but it was late, and I didn't want to become the woman who turned every unpleasant conversation into an emergency.<\/p>\n
The next morning, I went into the garage to find a box of photographs.<\/p>\n
Daniel was crouched beside my SUV.<\/p>\n
He stood so quickly that his shoulder struck the bottom of a shelf.<\/p>\n
\u201cDidn't hear you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cChecking something.\u201d<\/p>\n
He held a gray rag loosely in one hand. There was a dark mark on the heel of his other palm.<\/p>\n
\u201cChecking what?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cA noise.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe engine isn't running.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt was something I noticed yesterday.\u201d<\/p>\n
He walked past me before I could ask another question.<\/p>\n
The garage smelled of concrete, old cardboard, and the lemon cleaner Judith had insisted we use on the guest bathroom.<\/p>\n
Above the shelving sat a small security camera we had installed after packages disappeared from several houses on our street. Daniel had told me months earlier that it was unreliable.<\/p>\n
I remember noticing its angled bracket because the photograph box was underneath it.<\/p>\n
Nothing about the garage looked dramatic.<\/p>\n
That was part of what made the memory so difficult later. There had been no warning I could point to and say any reasonable person would have understood.<\/p>\n
Just my husband. A rag. An answer that didn't quite fit.<\/p>\n
At breakfast, he asked what time I was leaving for Raleigh.<\/p>\n
\u201cAfter lunch. The accountant expects me at two.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou're going straight there?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAlone?\u201d<\/p>\n
I glanced up.<\/p>\n
\u201cWere you planning to come?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo. Work.\u201d<\/p>\n
He left a little after eight.<\/p>\n
At the kitchen doorway, he stopped.<\/p>\n
\u201cBe careful on the drive.\u201d<\/p>\n
Usually he said, Text when you get there.<\/p>\n
I waited until I heard his car leave before calling Ethan.<\/p>\n
My cousin answered over the sound of a compressor.<\/p>\n
\u201cTell me this isn't your dishwasher again.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt isn't.\u201d<\/p>\n
Something in my voice must have reached him.<\/p>\n
He asked what had happened.<\/p>\n
I described finding Daniel beside the SUV. I repeated the explanation about the noise.<\/p>\n
Ethan didn't laugh.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon't start it until I get there.\u201d<\/p>\n
I told myself he was being cautious.<\/p>\n
I was being cautious too. That was all.<\/p>\n
When he arrived, he asked where I had seen Daniel standing and whether anyone had recently serviced the vehicle.<\/p>\n
I gave him the maintenance receipts from the glove compartment.<\/p>\n
He examined it without driving it or moving it from its place.<\/p>\n
At one point, he lowered his inspection light and looked at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cPut the keys down.\u201d<\/p>\n
I set them on a shelf.<\/p>\n
He checked something again, more slowly.<\/p>\n
\u201cClaire, I don't want anyone driving this.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat's wrong?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe braking system needs a professional examination.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you saying it could fail?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI'm saying nobody should find out on a road.\u201d<\/p>\n
I asked whether he could repair it.<\/p>\n
He shook his head.<\/p>\n
\u201cNot before somebody independent documents what we're looking at.\u201d<\/p>\n
I felt a pressure behind my ribs.<\/p>\n
\u201cEthan.\u201d<\/p>\n
He stood.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don't know how this happened. I'm not going to pretend I do. But you need to tell me exactly what you saw this morning.\u201d<\/p>\n
I did.<\/p>\n
He listened without interrupting.<\/p>\n
Then he arranged transport to a facility that could examine the SUV and preserve its condition.<\/p>\n
While we waited, I called Marissa from the back porch.<\/p>\n
She didn't tell me I was overreacting.<\/p>\n
She asked whether Daniel was home, whether I had somewhere else to go, and whether Ethan could stay with me.<\/p>\n
\u201cWrite down what you remember now,\u201d she said. \u201cKeep what you observed separate from what you fear.\u201d<\/p>\n
I used a grocery pad.<\/p>\n
Eight o'clock, approximately.<\/p>\n
Gray rag.<\/p>\n
Shoulder against shelf.<\/p>\n
Checking a noise.<\/p>\n
Be careful driving to Raleigh.<\/p>\n
My handwriting was perfectly ordinary. That disturbed me almost as much as the list.<\/p>\n
Ethan stayed until the flatbed arrived.<\/p>\n
A neighbor paused while walking her dog and asked whether I needed a battery jump.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
The word stuck in my throat.<\/p>\n
After the SUV left, I went upstairs to pack a small bag. I had decided to spend the afternoon with Ethan's wife, Nora, and cancel the appointment in Raleigh.<\/p>\n
Then Judith called my name.<\/p>\n
She stood at the bottom of the stairs in a cream jacket.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe need your car.\u201d<\/p>\n
I came down holding my phone.<\/p>\n
\u201cFor what?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe luncheon. Durham. I told you about it.\u201d<\/p>\n
She had, several times.<\/p>\n
I automatically took my keys from the entry table and placed them in her waiting hand.<\/p>\n
It was a gesture practiced over years: someone asked, I supplied.<\/p>\n
Then I saw her turn toward the garage.<\/p>\n
\u201cWait.\u201d<\/p>\n
She looked back.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou can't drive it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy give me the keys, then?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause I wasn't thinking. Ethan found a possible brake problem. It's already been taken away.\u201d<\/p>\n
Judith stared at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cTaken where?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor inspection.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCouldn't that have waited?\u201d<\/p>\n
Raymond emerged from the guest room carrying his jacket.<\/p>\n
\u201cJudith.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe're late.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen we should book a ride.\u201d<\/p>\n
He asked me whether I needed anything. I said no, although I needed several things I couldn't name.<\/p>\n
He arranged a rideshare.<\/p>\n
Judith gave me back the keys with a small irritated movement, as if I had withdrawn a favor for no reason.<\/p>\n
I watched both of them get into the arriving sedan. Raymond waved.<\/p>\n
They were safe.<\/p>\n
I knew that.<\/p>\n
What happened next was my decision, and I would spend a long time resisting the temptation to improve it in the telling.<\/p>\n
Daniel came home earlier than expected.<\/p>\n
I was in the living room, holding a mug of coffee I hadn't tasted. My overnight bag sat behind the armchair.<\/p>\n
He dropped his work bag when he looked through the front window.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere's your SUV?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYour parents took it.\u201d<\/p>\n
I could have told him about Ethan.<\/p>\n
I could have left.<\/p>\n
Instead, I offered a lie and watched what it did.<\/p>\n
He turned so quickly that the loose end of his tie swung against his shirt.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYour mother asked to borrow it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere are they?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDurham. The family luncheon.\u201d<\/p>\n
He called Raymond.<\/p>\n
No answer.<\/p>\n
He called again, then looked at the screen as if it had failed him.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow long ago?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAbout an hour.\u201d<\/p>\n
He stared at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou're insane.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDaniel\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo. What were you thinking?\u201d<\/p>\n
His voice rose enough that I glanced toward the open curtains.<\/p>\n
He called his father again.<\/p>\n
\u201cPick up,\u201d he whispered. \u201cCome on.\u201d<\/p>\n
There was sweat at his hairline.<\/p>\n
He had worried about his parents before. Raymond had once fallen while cleaning gutters, and Daniel had driven to the hospital with both hands steady on the wheel.<\/p>\n
This was different.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou just killed my parents!\u201d<\/p>\n
The words struck so hard that I put the mug down without looking for a coaster.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy would you say that?\u201d<\/p>\n
He didn't answer.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy would borrowing my car kill anybody?\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked toward the garage.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey could die.\u201d<\/p>\n
For a few seconds, neither of us moved.<\/p>\n
I heard the refrigerator stop humming. A dog barked outside.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat is wrong with my car?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNothing. I meant\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat did you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n
He rubbed his mouth.<\/p>\n
\u201cPeople have accidents.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYour parents have been riding in cars their entire lives.\u201d<\/p>\n
He called Raymond again.<\/p>\n
I stood, but kept the coffee table between us.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy are you frightened of this car?\u201d<\/p>\n
His phone rang before he answered.<\/p>\n
Dad.<\/p>\n
Daniel took the call immediately.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere are you?\u201d<\/p>\n
I watched his shoulders.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou're okay?\u201d<\/p>\n
A pause.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd Mom?\u201d<\/p>\n
His eyes closed.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, nothing happened. I was checking.\u201d<\/p>\n
He ended the call.<\/p>\n
For the first time since entering the room, he looked directly at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey don't have it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou lied.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
His face hardened.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou wanted to do that to me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI wanted to know why you were so afraid.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou set me up.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy car is being examined.\u201d<\/p>\n
His gaze moved to my phone.<\/p>\n
\u201cEthan found something wrong with the brakes.\u201d<\/p>\n
He said nothing.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou knew before I told you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEthan isn't qualified to decide\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe owns a repair shop.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe's your cousin.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd you were in my garage.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOur garage.\u201d<\/p>\n
There it was again. Ownership arriving exactly when he needed it.<\/p>\n
\u201cTell me why you knew.\u201d<\/p>\n
He stepped around the end of the coffee table.<\/p>\n
I stepped backward.<\/p>\n
\u201cGive me your phone,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cClaire, this has gone far enough.\u201d<\/p>\n
He reached out, not quite touching me.<\/p>\n
I picked up the phone and moved through the doorway into the kitchen.<\/p>\n
He followed.<\/p>\n
I didn't wait to find out whether he meant to stop me. I opened the back door, crossed the porch, and went through the side gate.<\/p>\n
Mrs. Patel was clipping browned leaves from a planter next door.<\/p>\n
\u201cCould I come inside?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
She looked past me toward Daniel.<\/p>\n
Then she opened her door.<\/p>\n
I called emergency services from her kitchen.<\/p>\n
I gave my name, address, and the location of the SUV. I said I was afraid my husband had deliberately damaged it.<\/p>\n
The dispatcher asked whether anyone was injured.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
Only then did I begin shaking.<\/p>\n
Mrs. Patel pulled out a chair. A shallow bowl of green beans sat on her table, half trimmed.<\/p>\n
\u201cSit here,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
Through her front window, I could see Daniel standing on our porch.<\/p>\n
He wasn't calling my name.<\/p>\n
He was looking at his phone.<\/p>\n
When the officers arrived, I told them about the car, the inheritance, the unsigned document, Victor, and what Daniel had said.<\/p>\n
I also told them I had lied about his parents driving.<\/p>\n
One officer wrote it down.<\/p>\n
I wanted him to understand that I wasn't concealing anything, including the part that made me look calculating.<\/p>\n
Daniel spoke with another officer on our driveway. From where I sat, he looked composed.<\/p>\n
He even made a small, helpless gesture toward the house, the gesture of a husband dealing with an embarrassing family problem.<\/p>\n
I recognized it.<\/p>\n
That frightened me more than his shouting had.<\/p>\n
A detective called later that afternoon. She introduced herself as Lena Ortiz and asked whether I could come somewhere private to give a fuller account.<\/p>\n
Ethan drove me.<\/p>\n
On the way, my phone lit up with Daniel's messages.<\/p>\n
You're grieving.<\/p>\n
We need to discuss this calmly.<\/p>\n
Don't let outsiders destroy our marriage.<\/p>\n
Then:<\/p>\n
Think about what you're accusing me of.<\/p>\n
I turned the screen over.<\/p>\n
At the station, Detective Ortiz asked me to begin with the morning, not the argument.<\/p>\n
She wanted times, positions, words I could remember exactly.<\/p>\n
When I described his warning about Raleigh, she asked whether he knew I intended to drive alone.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid anybody else know your schedule?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHis parents. My accountant. Ethan, after I called.\u201d<\/p>\n
She made another note.<\/p>\n
I had expected either immediate certainty or dismissal.<\/p>\n
Her carefulness gave me neither.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe'll need the vehicle examined,\u201d she said. \u201cAnd we'll need to establish how the damage occurred.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat if it was an ordinary failure?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen we need to know that too.\u201d<\/p>\n
I nodded.<\/p>\n
The possibility should have comforted me.<\/p>\n
Instead, I found myself hoping for something that would allow the last several hours to be a terrible misunderstanding.<\/p>\n
Then I remembered Daniel's face when he thought his parents were in the SUV.<\/p>\n
Not when he learned I had been frightened.<\/p>\n
Not when I left the house.<\/p>\n
When he thought the wrong people were inside it.<\/p>\n
Detective Ortiz stepped out to take a call.<\/p>\n
When she returned, she closed the door.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe preliminary examiner has identified damage that needs further forensic review,\u201d she said. \u201cThey're not treating this as routine wear.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at Ethan.<\/p>\n
His eyes were on the table.<\/p>\n
I asked the question I had avoided all day.<\/p>\n
\u201cIf I had driven to Raleigh, could I have been killed?\u201d<\/p>\n
Ortiz waited until I looked back at her.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere was a serious risk of a crash.\u201d<\/p>\n
My phone vibrated again.<\/p>\n
A message from Daniel.<\/p>\n
Come home. We can still keep this between us.<\/p>\n
I slid it across the table.<\/p>\n
\u201cI won't be going back tonight,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
END PART 1<\/p>\n