“I ain’t going home,” she responded. “I’m going to Seattle. I got an aunt up there who has her own little coffee shop. Her husband died last year, and she’s been running the place by herself since then. Said if I get myself up there I can have a job in the shop and live with her in her house. And I figure Seattle is about as far away from Effingham County as you can get and still be in the United States.”

“I wish you well, Sandy. I hope it works out and you find what you’re looking for.”

I understood her motivation. In my case, I had fled Dade County, Georgia, just as soon as I was able. I was seventeen years old at the time. Fortunately for me, it was the United States Army that gave me a needed refuge and a chance at life.

“Sandy, unsolicited advice is just about worth its weight in air, but if I had any words of recommendation for you it would be this: As soon as you get to Seattle and settle in, find the local community college and start taking courses. Find something that gives you joy and fulfillment and get a degree in it. It will give you the means of becoming truly independent, of never having to depend on another person to take care of you, and you’ll never regret it.”

“Funny you should say so—I was already thinking of that,” she replied.

As I pulled to the curb in front of the station, Sandy put her hand on the door but hesitated a second.

“Tonya never did have no luck,” she said. “Nothing ever went her way, no matter what she tried to do. But she didn’t deserve to end up the way she did.”

“Sandy, nobody does,” I responded. “But did you know the kind of life Tonya had slipped into?”

Sandy looked downward and nodded her head.

“I did—but then, I didn’t—I didn’t want to know, I guess. ’Cause if I ever stopped and told myself I knew—and didn’t do anything to help—then I was sort of a part of it all, too. And I couldn’t admit that to myself. I couldn’t face it—it was just too ugly.”

Sandy lifted her eyes to mine.

“I ain’t proud of myself, Mr. Tanner—not at all. But if this helps—and you’re able to find out what happened— well, I know it will mean a lot to Joree. And she deserves better than what she’s had so far.”

“Sandy, I think you’ve had to learn a lot more about life than someone should at your age. I hope you find contentment in Seattle. I wish you happiness.”

“Thank you,” she said.

She held my eyes a second longer, then stepped out of the car and walked into the bus station. She did not look back.