Emma Signed Over Her Kitchen Island to Keep Toby Safe in Massachusetts

plastic glove box.

The interior smelled of old coffee and cold vinyl.

I slid into the driver’s seat and put the key into the ignition.

“Is it loud, Mom?” Toby asked, pulling his seatbelt across his chest.

“A little loud,” I said.

I turned the key, and the starter groaned, a slow, heavy sound that seemed to drag against the battery.

The engine sputtered twice,continue reading …