The hospital parking lot was colder than I had remembered.

Or maybe it was the way Stanley looked at me—as if I were dirt on the sole of his shoe.

His words still echoed in my mind:

"I'm glad someone's finally putting you in your place."

And that smug grin when he spoke them—like he'd won a prize.

I gripped the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles hard as bone, my breath fogging up the inside of the windshield. Moved not an inch. Not for a very long time. Sat there in stale quiet, ...