He’d practically leapt off the interstate when he’d reached Little Rock. This is it, every membrane of his body had hummed. This is where you’re meant to be.

Even broke, with no job and no prospects, he’d felt the calmness. The sensation stayed with him, despite the longing for his family and living in a crappy trailer making minimum wage.

And who was he kidding? For the first time in his life, he was free. Free of speculation about what happened to him, free of the stares, free of the burden of being that UFO guy.

The nightmares, however, reminded him that some things you can’t outrun. Whether it was guilt for abandoning his family or the troubling headlines of the day soaking into his subconscious, the dreams were inescapable. But at least—unlike the anxiety and panic attacks that were always waiting and could linger for an hour—when he woke, it was a clean cut. And he had a job to go to that filled up the days, and books and baseball at night.

Now that life was over.

I’ve done it once. I can do it again, he thought. He’d rest until first light. Once he got what he needed from the trailer, mostly the cash he’d kept hidden in his closet, he’d head further south, maybe to Louisiana. Especially with all the storms they’ve been experiencing, it would be easy to get lost in New Orleans.

William put his hands behind his head. If the dreams did come tonight, at least there would be no one to hear him scream.

She could hear the footsteps of the knockoff Allen Edmonds echoing loudly across the marble floors of the Dirksen Senate Office Building. She knew without a doubt that it was Frank, and that meant he would be wearing the cheap shoes, designed to look expensive but with thin soles that would wear out soon because he wore them every single day. Even when he stood on the other side of her desk, sliding across the latest research on human trafficking in Tennessee, she could smell his feet.

Frank sweated a lot in her presence.

Kate Roseworth hoped to have several hours alone, given that a looming budget battle in the upcoming fall session promised yet another government shutdown. Her secretary and staff, including Frank, had gone home some time ago, which meant she could play some Leon Bridges and try to focus without interruption. She’d actually made some serious headway and was on the trail of what seemed to be some common-sense budget cuts that would be appreciated by her constituents. Her calculator was deep into an equation when she heard the footsteps.

“Come in, Frank.”