“I don’t want sunshine. I want adventure. And I’ve wanted to do Route 66 for a long time.”

“So why didn’t you do it?”

“It never seemed to be the right time.” Kathleen kept her reply purposefully vague. “But now it does.”

Liza appeared to be struggling for words. “You’re ignoring one very big problem.”

There were a million problems. It made her dizzy to think of them all, but she was determined to handle each and every one.

She’d beaned an intruder with a skillet. She was confident she could handle anything that came her way, even an uncomfortable set of memories.

“I have a passport, if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s right here in my bag.” She closed her fingers around the handle and pulled it a little closer.

Liza glanced from her mother to the bag. “You carry your passport with you?”

“Yes.”

“To the village shop? To the post office?”

“I have it on my person at all times.” Not that she’d traveled anywhere for years, but carrying her passport around made her think she might.

Liza looked aghast. “What if someone snatches your bag?”

“What will they do? Clone my identity? Frankly they’re welcome to it, providing I can have theirs and they don’t suffer from creaking bones.”

Her daughter shook her head. “You don’t just need a passport, Mum. You need a driving license. A road trip across America requires you to have a car and drive it. You don’t drive anymore.”

Kathleen sat up a little straighter. “Then I’ll need to find someone who does.”

4

MARTHA

“Will you at least listen to me?”

“No.” Martha stalked up the path to the house, her bag of library books knocking against her legs. She couldn’t wait to lose herself in a fictional world, which was currently her only escape from the real world. Anxiety swarmed through her. “There is nothing you have to say that I want to hear.”

“I know it’s mostly my fault, but everyone makes mistakes, right?” Steven stumbled as he tried to keep up with her. “And you’ve got to admit you’ve let yourself go a bit. Although your bum does look good in those jeans.”

“I don’t want to see you again.” Martha elongated her body in order to look slimmer and hated herself for doing it. Her jeans were too tight. She should have bought new ones, but if there was one thing that was tighter than her jeans, it was money.

How had her life turned out like this? And how was she going to get out of this mess?

She was starting to dread leaving the house, and it wasn’t as if home was a sanctuary. Things were almost as bad inside as they were outside.

She wanted to run away, but you needed money to run away.