Grandma carefully navigated the dark road. She gripped the steering wheel tightly. “Your parents loved each other very much. And though they moved far away, Lois kept in touch with frequent letters. She wanted a ‘normal’ life for them—for you.” She took a deep calming breath and exhaled slowly. “Then one day the letters stopped coming. I could sense something was not right, so I drove several thousand miles to check on her.

“It was not a pleasant reunion. She would not even allow me into your home. She said I could ruin everything just by being there. When I left, I was so worried about her … about you.” She stopped and took another deep breath.

“But she let me know that everything was under control. That I should go back to the reservation and wait. Waiting can be difficult—especially when you don’t know why.” She tapped the brake suddenly as a large animal scampered across the road. “Coyote. A good sign.”

Streetlights appeared in the distance. A road sign read TUBA CITY, HOME OF THE WARRIORS. They turned right at an intersection, passing a supermarket and a fast-food restaurant. “Let’s stop for a snack,” she said in an attempt to brighten the mood. “I love Tater Tots with cheese and chili.”

“Ah, health food,” Coralis said sarcastically.

“As vices go, Tater Tots isn’t so bad.” She laughed and broke some of the tension. “Besides, there isn’t much between here and Kayenta and it’s getting late. Can you eat Tater Tots, young lady?”

Brianna’s nose twitched excitedly as she read the menu. “Only if I wash them down with a chocolate shake!”

“Yes,” said Coralis hungrily. “A chocolate shake will improve any situation.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Henry and Brianna were asleep in the back of the van when it pulled to a stop in the parking lot of the Blue Coffee Pot Restaurant in Kayenta. “Henry.” Grandma Gailene shook him gently. “There is someone who needs to meet you.”

Henry rubbed his eyes, and Brianna yawned widely. “If they only need to see Henry, I’ll just stay here and sleep.” She curled up on the seat.

“You should come, too,” Grandma said sympathetically. “The invitation is a rare one.”

“Where is Coralis?” asked Henry.

On cue, Coralis emerged from the restaurant with the sour look of a man who had sniffed rotten vegetables. He held a Styrofoam cup at arm’s length, quickly glanced to see if anyone was watching, and ceremoniously dumped it in the trash. “I’m not sure what was in that cup, but it couldn’t have been what I asked for,” he grumbled.

“They must have given him the tourist blend,” Grandma Gailene whispered. “The good coffee is reserved for the locals.”