Kilburn spent the next hour clearing paperwork off his desk. As he was getting ready to leave, his phone rang. He grabbed for the receiver. “Gray, it’s Kyra.”

Kilburn felt a rush of warmth at the sound of his sister’s voice. “You okay?”

“I’m good. Honest.” And he realized, with relief, that she sounded sober. “Gray, thanks for yesterday. I really appreciate your help.”

“No problem,” he said. “Are you planning to take Matt and Shayna home tonight?”

“I was hoping to, if that’s okay with you,” she said deferentially. “I’m going to attend a meeting this afternoon before I pick them up from Corazón.”

He knew she meant an AA meeting. “Sounds like a good plan.”

“They always say ‘one day at a time’,” she said with a self-conscious laugh. “And I’m almost at a full day without touching a drop.” She paused. “I made it three months last time.”

“You’re getting there,” he said encouragingly. “Kyra, I have to head out of town for a few days.”

“Everything okay?”

“I’ve got to go to Seattle on business,” he said evasively.

“I hope you get a couple days off down,” she said, “You work too hard, Gray. How are you ever going to meet Ms. Right with your crazy schedule?” She swallowed. “Of course, having an albatross like me around your neck doesn’t help much.”

“Don’t go taking credit for that!” he said. “I’m more than capable of fucking up a relationship without your help.”

They shared a laugh. “I’m sorry you two broke up,” Kyra said. “I liked Michelle. She’s a good person.”

“Yeah,” Kilburn said distantly. “Kyra, I have to go.”

After leaving his office, he stopped by his house to pack an overnight bag before heading out on the highway. At the Canada-U.S. border, thirty miles south of Vancouver, he was relieved to have to wait only twenty minutes to cross—a rarity in these post-9/11 days heightened security. The beefy and balding U.S. Customs agent viewed him suspiciously at the booth. Realizing the mention of his work-related motive might lead to a prolonged interrogation and even refusal of entry, Kilburn stretched the truth and told the officer he was going to Seattle “to escape work.”

Once he drove onto Interstate 5, he was reminded of the last time he had driven the same stretch of freeway, heading to the Olympic Peninsula on the last vacation he ever took with Michelle. He couldn’t stave off the memories of her any longer.