It was certain—you were dead, and we were just people in a car again. How could this be? The world was over, but we still had to do things like obey street signs and traffic lights. Dad held tightly to the wheel, and Mom kept looking back at me with a teary face, squeezing my hand. But then she faced forward, and it became really quiet, and it was still possible to pretend like none of this was happening. Like maybe we were on our way to the movies. Maybe we were going to the mall to buy you a dress for Billy’s prom.
