The pavement on the other side of town is in worse condition, forcing us to slow our progress. By the time I pull myself together enough to take real notice, Duet is scowling in fury, no longer singing along to the country music she's learned to love. The kids stay quiet, huddled in back as though aware she's dangerous from the mood she's in. I clutch at the door as we roll over a substantial heave, the sound of scraping metal on pavement enough to make me grind my teeth.

Duet ...