After I dropped it off and was two miles from their house, a car pulled alongside me on the empty road. The sky was gray, just lightening toward sunrise. No one else was out.

At first I ignored the driver, but they paced me, and then made an aggressive move—increasing their speed, pulling ahead, and cutting over into my lane so I had no choice but to slow and then stop unless I wanted to go into the culvert that ran on my right.

The other driver stopped as well, blocking me in and allowing me no path forward.

I sat frozen in the car, my hands gripping the wheel. I was ready to slam the car into reverse and back up, turn around if I had to.

But then the driver stepped out. Instead of a cop or a menacing figure, I saw a woman about my age. She wore a long-sleeve T-shirt and jeans. Running shoes. Her dirty blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she walked briskly toward my car, her stride long and confident. She twirled her finger, telling me to roll down the window. Which I did.

“Is everything okay?” I asked. “Are you hurt?”

“Just listen,” she said. She spoke in clipped sentences, her voice husky, with a trace of a Kentucky accent. “You know who I am, right?”

I hadn’t seen her photo in six years. But the face wasn’t that different. A few smile lines around the eyes. A few gray strands in the hair. But it was her.

Dawn Steiner. The elder sister of Maggie and Emily Steiner. Maggie was killed in the accident, and Emily was left with a permanent injury to her leg, one that hindered her ability to walk and work.

My heart thumped. Triple time. The morning was cool, but beads of sweat popped out on my forehead like I was a sick man.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“Shhh. You know me, then. And I know you. So, like I said, just listen.”

Her tone was flat as the road. Calm. Clear. Precise.

“I need money. I need my cut of what you have. In fact, I need more than that. I lost a sister here. And what you give to my parents . . . Let’s just say it doesn’t trickle down to me. And I have things I need the money for. I have obligations to keep up with. And you seem to be doing just fine. Help me out, and I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

“About the money?”