“Nope. You’re all set,” Tim says with a guileless smile. But he’s definitely looking between Robbie and Lance with a bewildered sort of curiosity that makes Lance itch again to get away.

Tim hands Lance a plastic baggie that contains everything Lance had in his pockets when they checked him into jail. Then, his eyes rest on the crumpled paperwork Lance has to pass to his other hand in order to take the baggie. Tim holds up a finger and disappears again into his office.

During the long few seconds Lance and Robbie are alone, Lance avoids Robbie’s gaze by staring at the baggie. A cell phone with a dark screen. Sixty-three dollars and twelve cents. A stick of gum with some lint stuck to it. His slim wallet, with a couple of useless credit cards and his ID.

When Tim comes back, he has a manila folder, dogeared around the edges and with rectangles of blacked-out ink here and there on the front.

“Here, for your docs,” Tim says with a half-smile.

Lance is so emotionally raw that his hand is shaking a little when he takes the folder. The gesture, no matter how small, hits him hard. He meets Tim’s kind, close-set eyes with a sincere smile. “Thanks, man.”

“You bet.” After watching Lance tuck his wrinkled documents into the folder, Tim gives his shoulder an awkward pat in farewell.

Lance takes a deep breath and heads for the stairs. For the first two steps, Robbie is right behind him, and then he hurries past Lance, getting slightly ahead of him on the stairs as they descend, like he’s prepared to catch Lance if he should pitch forward.

From two stairs below, Robbie has to look up at Lance from under the brim of his hat. “Do you have a coat? It’s snowing, and the wind is starting to blow.”

“I’ve pretty much got the clothes on my back and the contents of this Ziploc,” Lance says, waving the bag demonstratively. So that he doesn’t have to see Robbie’s reaction, Lance looks down at the thin jacket he was lucky to keep when everything happened yesterday. It’s a fitted fleece intended to be worn under a heavier coat, like the one he left in the back seat of the car that’s now locked in an impound. “I’ll be fine,” he insists, and it’s probably true. He’s been cold before. And he has enough cash to get a night at the motel—maybe two, if they only want half up front.

Then again, how much does a motel cost these days? It’s been a long time since he’s stayed in one. Not since the weekend trips he went on with his aunt at the end of high school. He’s thinking that over when they reach the first landing of the broad staircase and Robbie turns and steps in front of him, putting them chest-to-chest.

Lance is startled enough that he accidentally meets Robbie’s eyes. Again, he notices the strangeness of their similar heights. For so long, Lance was always looking up at him. Usually from afar.