It was all she wanted to do.

“Go to sleep,” he said. “It’ll be dark soon, and this is a long drive.”

“How long?”

“You’re safe, Ellis. Everything is okay.”

She slept. And slept and slept. She woke in darkness needing a bathroom. He helped her into a McDonald’s restroom, then made her take a pain pill.

After he fueled the car, she asked, “How far are we from your house?”

“A ways still. Go back to sleep.”

The pain medication helped. She didn’t care how good it felt. She wanted to be dead to everything that had happened in the campground.

It was still dark out the second time she needed a bathroom. She was confused about how long she’d been in the car. “Why is it taking so long?” she asked.

“We had to take a little detour,” he said. “How’s the pain?”

“Coming back.”

“You’d better take another pill with your antibiotic.”

She took the pill. Much too willingly. She was getting used to the feeling again.

When the sun came up, she was still in the car.

“Why is it morning?” she asked.

“That’s what usually happens after night,” he said.

“Seriously. What are we doing? We’ve been in the car for too long.”

“It’s been good rest for you.”

Had he been driving around all night to let her sleep? Ellis sometimes did that with the boys. When they fell asleep in the car, she kept driving. She didn’t want to wake them, and she always needed the quiet time. She never had to do that with Viola. Viola was a sound sleeper, even when taken out of the car. Ellis wondered if she still was.

They were in a town somewhere. She noticed that the car kept stopping.

Ellis watched a palm tree stream past the window. And another. How could palm trees grow in Ohio? She sat up.

“Almost there,” he said.

“Where are we?”

“Don’t you recognize it?” He looked at her in the rearview mirror.

She peered around. Palm trees. Signs with alligators. Everything was “Gator” this and “Gator” that. It wasn’t early spring. It looked like summer.

A truck that said GAINESVILLE’s #1 FLORIST drove past.

“What are you doing?” she said.

“Taking you home.”

“This isn’t my home!”

“We’re almost there.”

“Stop saying that! Stop the car! Stop!”

“We’re nearly at your house. We’ll talk there.”

She couldn’t believe it. She had trusted him. Fully. And he had done this to her. He had put her in her car, drugged her, lied to her, and driven her to damn Florida.

He pulled the car into the driveway of a pastel-blue cinderblock house with fake white shutters. Ellis recognized the address. It was the one she had given to the bank, Dani’s address.

The last time Ellis and Dani were together, Dani was trying to put her back together after she lost Viola. Ellis couldn’t face her like this. Not again. A friend shouldn’t have to deal with screwups this big.

Keith parked the car and turned off the motor.

“How could you do this to me?” Ellis said.

He twisted around to look at her. “I assume you know this house?”

“I’ve never seen it before! I don’t live here!”

He looked alarmed. “I hope you’re joking.”

“I’m not!”

“Shit!” he said. He pushed his hands through his hair.

She saw how exhausted he was. He had dark circles under his eyes and at least two days’ stubble on his face.

“I need to stretch my legs,” he said. He got out, slamming the door hard.

She clambered out of the soft bed he’d made for her and got out.

He was standing in the driveway, staring at the house. He turned to her. “This is the address on your driver’s license. It’s what you gave the hospital. And to make sure, the cops and I verified it from your car’s plate.”

“How dare you do that!”

“There was a crime! You were beaten and stabbed. They needed to make sure there wasn’t more.”

“More what?”

“More anything!” He strode up to her. “You have no family. No job. No health insurance. And for some reason I can’t fathom, you live in campgrounds. But you can’t do that right now. You’re too sick. I knew you’d be too stubborn to see that, but I can’t take you to my house. I live with someone now. I had no choice but to bring you here. I thought there would be someone who could help you.”

She was too sick to fight the tears. She turned away, trying to hide them, but he took her into his arms. His scent was strong from the long car drive, but he smelled good. Like the night they’d made love in her tent.

“Don’t cry,” he crooned. “We’ll figure out what to do.”

“Who are you with now?”

He held her out in his arms, smiling. “Don’t tell me that’s why you’re crying?”

“No. It’s good. But won’t she be angry you’re with me all this time?”

“She’s away—spending the weekend with her parents in Michigan. But I’ve told her I had to help a friend. She knows I’m here with you.”