Somehow, however, Laura managed to claim a spot in the slower lane and stick to it, keeping her panic under tight control while also keeping up with traffic.

“After another mile, take exit 3B onto the 405 freeway,” said the GPS lady.

“Oh yeah,” said Polly. “I’d forgotten you needed to get on the 405.” She gave a nervous giggle and then tried to cover it with an even more nervous cough. “Sorry . . . I, uh, had a crumb.”

“You won’t be on it for long,” said Nina reassuringly. “It’s on and off, no worries.”

“Follow the 405 for ten miles,” said the GPS lady.

“Right,” said Nina. “Ten miles, like I said, nothing at all.”

Laura looked in her rearview. The traffic behind her was solid, wall to wall, lane to lane, bumper to bumper, yet somehow all traveling at speed. The traffic ahead of her was the same.

“I’m scared,” she said, her voice trembling. “How am I supposed to get off this freeway and onto another?”

Nina’s voice was very calm. “Laura, you’re in the right-hand lane, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then stay where you are and follow the signs. The lane you’re in will turn into the exit and you can keep going. I don’t know how freeways work in New York State, but they’re pretty idiotproof here, you can do it.”

“I can’t.”

“You can,” said Nina.

“You have to,” said Polly, always the realist. “You can’t vanish from the middle of the freeway, this isn’t Hogsmeade.”

Laura frowned. “What’s Hogsmeade?”

Nina caught her breath. “We’ll talk about that later, for now just stick to your lane and try not to worry.”

“I’m worrying.”

“Well, try not to,” she replied.

Laura saw the signs for the 405 coming up and realized Nina was right. The lane she was in was going to merge automatically onto the second freeway, and all she had to do was stay the course. She could do that. She could do that for Bob.

By the time Laura was approaching the airport, she had herself essentially under control. Her body felt calm, and if her heart occasionally raced as she passed something much bigger than the truck, she could handle it.

“How do I know which terminal to go to?” she asked Polly and Nina. “I don’t know which airline he was taking.”

“JetBlue,” said Polly. “We talked about it the other day.”

There was a pause, and then Nina said, “Um, I really hate to ask this, but if it’s JetBlue, are you sure he’s flying out of LAX and not Burbank?”

“Burbank?” asked Laura, starting to scan the signage as she approached the airport, looking for JetBlue.

Polly’s voice was small. “It’s the other airport. It’s closer to our house. And JetBlue flies from there to New York, too.”

Laura’s vision blurred for a second. “Wait, what?”