Not living in the past. Live in the now. Right now. The side of the building under her palm was warm from the sun. Slightly rough, the once white paint, peeling. The front of her jeans were damp and sticky from the mug of root beer a kid in booth three had bowled over. Sarah had managed to snag the thick glass mug on its descent. No easy feat as she’d been taking orders two tables over. Applause had ensued. “I’d say”—Della had called from her post behind the bar—“that you just performed the waitressing equivalent of the triple-Lutz!” Sarah felt her face flush with the memory. Had been doing so well keeping her head down, not drawing attention to herself, and suddenly all eyes had been on her. She had calmed the crying kid with a promise of a free refill, then hurried back to the kitchen, worried about the attention, but grateful, too, that she didn’t have to get the vacuum out in the middle of the lunch rush to deal with broken shards of glass.

The screen door swung open. Della came out into the alley. “Hey there,” Della said. She fished a half-smoked joint out of the pocket of her faded plaid shirt and lit up. “I thought you’d be long gone. You forget something?” Della was planning to work a double shift again. Brutal hours, but she didn’t have a choice. The bank was threatening foreclosure on her house.

“No. I was just daydreaming.” Sarah pushed away from the building.

Della nodded, took a long toke, then tipped the joint toward Sarah. “Want a hit?”

Sarah shook her head. “Thanks for the offer though.” Even though she didn’t smoke, she was touched by the generosity of the gesture. “See you tomorrow,” Sarah called over her shoulder as she headed past the sour-smelling dumpster.

“Yup.” Della leaned her bony hip against the building, took another long toke, shut her eyes, and tipped her face up to capture the late-afternoon sun. As Sarah turned left out of the back alley onto E. Knoxville street, she could see Della, eyes still shut, exhaling a long, slow stream of smoke into the air.

Sarah walked on. A gray pickup truck rumbled by, but other than that, it was pretty quiet out. It generally was in the little town of Brimfield, Illinois. That was one of the reasons Sarah had decided to stop there. It was a small, sleepy town off the beaten track, and the last place on Earth Kevin would look for her. She crossed her fingers, knowing the act wouldn’t dissuade him from attempting to track her down, but it offered comfort nevertheless.