“Greg, I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.”
“We need to go.”
His expression shifted, but I couldn’t tell if it was nerves or something else.
“Nora, just grab your ID and get in the car.”
“Why do I need my ID?”
“You’ll see.” He reached for his keys. “Come on. We need to go.”
“You’ll understand soon, Nora.”
I stared at his nervous grin and thought about the florist. The white roses. The lawyer I’d planned to call Monday.
I picked up my purse and followed him.
He shut my door gently, and we pulled away from the only home I thought I knew.
****
Greg drove across town in near-silence. Every question I threw at him bounced off the same soft wall.
My mom stood on the sidewalk.
“You’ll understand soon, Nora.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“Five minutes.”
We pulled up to a small storefront on Bellamy Street. A wide red ribbon stretched across the door.
