Fuck, I’m messing this all up. I don’t know how, but I am. I need to talk to her. I need Vicki to be the one to teleport somewhere else. “Well, hon, let’s give your key fob a try,” says Vicki. “Yours should be one of those,” she adds, pointing to a row of white trucks parked near the back of the garage. Rachel fumbles with the key in her hand, her gaze glued to it as she gives the fob a squeeze. The truck at the end flashes its lights as the doors unlock. “And there you go,” says Vicki. “You let me know if you need anything else, okay? And you,” she says, glaring at me. “Bring me that ID or
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