“Well, I’m going to pick him up, actually.”

Morgan took this in and was silent for several seconds. She nodded sagely. “Because of equality?”

“Sure. Equality. And also logistics.”

Morgan chewed her lip. “What’s his name?”

“Daniel. His name is Daniel Bennett. And I know he’d like to meet you, just as soon as you’re ready.”

“I’m not ready,” said Morgan, almost instantly.

“That’s okay. That’s totally fine. So when you are, you’ll meet him.”

“I might never be ready.”

“That’s okay too.” (It wasn’t actually. But she was pretty sure Morgan didn’t mean it.) Once they checked out, she’d ask Morgan if she wanted to go out for a really late lunch/extremely early dinner and talk a little more.

“Do you know what I am ready for, though?” Morgan met Rebecca’s gaze squarely. There was still a tear standing in each eye.

“What?” Anything for poor brokenhearted Morgan!

“Some of those sour gummy worms by the register.”

Rebecca rolled her eyes. She’d been outsmarted once again. “Fine,” she said. “You got it.” She put one arm around Morgan and kept one hand on the shopping cart. This time, at least Morgan didn’t pull away.

Rebecca could bet that they weren’t the first people to have a heart-to-heart in the housewares section of Marshalls. And something told her they wouldn’t be the last.

68.

Alexa

In the early evening Alexa pondered her situation from the safety of her bedroom, with the door locked. The bad men couldn’t possibly find her here, she reasoned. But perhaps they could. She moved to the back of her closet, and nestled among the expensive Silk Stockings clothes. Or here, she thought. She fell briefly asleep in the closet—a first, and hopefully a last; she crumpled one of her dresses. When she woke up she was confused and disoriented and slightly sweaty. She went to Morgan’s room and looked out her window because it faced High Street. There were cars going by, but no black SUVs, and there was nothing unusual in the driveway. Coast: clear.

She ate some carrots and pretzels with hummus—the Griffins’ food options had not improved much over the summer, so she didn’t want to arrive hungry—and was readying herself to leave when her mother and Morgan came in the front door. Clearly Morgan had not showered or bathed since her overnight in Maudslay; she had dirt on her face and she was wearing a bandanna around her head. She looked like a Survivor contestant who had gotten knocked out in an early round. Alexa’s mother was carrying a brown paper Marshalls bag, and Morgan was face-deep into a bag of the sour gummy worms from the checkout line. Morgan must have caught their mother in a weak moment.