Damien pulled out his phone, held it for a moment, then put it away without dialing.

"Drive," he told the driver.

The driver knew better than to say anything. He noded and reached for the ignition — then stopped. The apartment building's front door had swung open, and two figures stepped out into the evening air. A woman and a little girl. Scarlett and Molly.

Moly had school tomorrow. Some craft project, apparently — she was short on supplies, so ...