On Our Way Home: Chapter Seventeen

“What old people?” I said to Macy, speaking to her through the rearview mirror that hung over the dashboard. “I don’t know. Those old people. They had a big car. It looked old, too.” “Macy, you didn’t see anything like that,” Joseph snapped. “I did, too,” she said. “Who were they, Daddy?” I didn’t know [more]