“And a sunroof! I love a sunroof. We’ve never had a car with a sunroof.”

Angie turned the key, tilted her head, puzzled. “I don’t hear anything,” she said. “Is it on?”

“It’s on, don’t worry about it. Just put it in gear and go.”

She put the car in drive and pulled away from the curb. “It’s so quiet,” she said. “I can’t believe how quiet it is.”

“I know,” I said. “You know they make you pay for parking just to come in here and pick somebody up?”

“Yeah, they’re real pricks,” Angie said, her chin up in the air as she looked down the short hood. “But not to worry.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know another way out.”

“What? What do you mean?”

Angie smiled mischievously, the way she did when she was a little girl and had taken her brother’s cookie. It was the smile that said she had secrets, that there were parts of her life I knew nothing about.

“There’s this way, you go down the side of Galloway Hall here”—she turned right—“and just keep your eye open for this kind of alleyway.”

“Guess who was at the house today when I got home.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“He said he was looking for his dog.”

“What kind of dog?”

“This black mangy mutt, I don’t know. It looked like, if he was going to have a dog, that would be the dog.”

“You know, it’s not like I hate the guy. He’s just a little too out there for me. This whole black-jacket-and-boots thing, I’m just not into that. And he’s— Wait, here it is.”

She slowed the car, turned into a cobblestone lane that wasn’t much wider than the car, and inched forward.

“What are you doing?” I asked. “Where the hell are you going?”

“I never have to pay for parking. I can almost always get out this way.”

“This isn’t even a road!” I said. “It’s a walkway! And besides, your mom or I always give you money for parking.”

“Hey, if you guys want to give me money for parking, I’m not going to turn it down. I put it towards other educational expenses.”

“Like parties?”

“Of course not,” she said, looking straight ahead. “Someday they’re going to get smart and close this off and then I’ll need it anyway.”

“Where does this come out?”

“Edwards Street. There’s a little chain at the end, and you just have to unhook it to get out, there’s not a lock.”

“You better hope not or you’re going to have to be very good at backing up long distances down narrow alleys.”