“I’m going to wait,” she says. “I’m going to wait until she’s ready.” “What if she’s never ready?” Hannah guides the car onto their driveway. She thinks about how she has waited for Baker all week, how she’s thought about Baker’s broken rib and the cuts on her hairline and the bruises on her skin. How she’s kept her phone in her hand like a talisman. How she’s looked out the window with the sound of every car that’s driven by. “I’ll just keep waiting,” she says.
