A truck was parked at the curb in front of the house.

My father’s black pickup.

“Hey, is that—” Maggie started to ask.

“Yeah,” I said.

I should have been smiling. I should have been relieved. This was what I wanted, right?

Yet everything in my stomach curdled.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“Tip-top.”

“Well, how ’bout I wait in the car, and you go have a nice visit. I brought my book,” she said, grabbing Radioactive Contamination for Dummies from the back seat. “And I know you know it, but you’re welcome to stay with us as long as you’d like.”

“Thanks,” I said. “But you should go home. I don’t know how long this will take. I’ll have my dad drop me off afterward.”

She gave me a long look, as if she had much more to say but was repressing the impulse. “Okay,” she finally said. “But since you can’t call me on your cell, and I don’t want you walking back on that leg, I’ll swing by here again in a bit.”

“You don’t have to, but thanks,” I said, and started to get out. Then I stopped myself and poked my head back inside the car.

“Really, thanks,” I said, and leaned over to give her a kiss. She turned her head, and I planted one on her cheek.

“Good luck,” she said, and drove off.

My head throbbed. I was about to see my father at last, and I’d never felt so alone.

CHAPTER 31

Jordan

THE HOUSE STILL had that wet-smoke smell as I stepped inside, the scorched floorboards creaking beneath my feet. If my dad was inside the house, he would have heard me. But as I stopped and listened, there was no sound.

“Hello?” I called.

Nothing.

No one was in the living room or little front parlor. I walked back to the kitchen and found him crouched in front of the open refrigerator door.

“These peaches are still excellent,” he said, not looking back. “Would you like one?”

“No, thanks,” I said. “Not hungry.”

He closed the fridge door, turned toward me, and took a slurpy bite out of a peach. “You may want to reconsider,” he said. “They’re perfect. Though you won’t want to open the refrigerator door too much. There’s a high risk of spoilage.”

I hadn’t even thought about the food, whatever we’d bought after we returned to town, and whether we should take any of it back to Maggie’s house. I had no idea why he was thinking about this.

He stepped up to me and put his hands on my upper arms and gave them a squeeze.

“Hello, son. You’re looking well. I’m glad to see you’re safe.”

He let his arms drop down. No hug from this fella. Maybe he thought I was too old for such stuff. I wasn’t.

He turned and walked out the back door, taking a seat under the pergola in the exact spot where Maggie was sitting when our world went up in flames. I took my place beside him.