The ride out to St. Catherine's was silent.
Not the comfortable kind.
That morning, Ares had not called Gerald. He'd taken the keys himself, which he never did on Tuesdays,tuesdays were Gerald's mornings, had been since James started asking for them both. But today, Ares had walked past the car bay without a word and climbed behind the wheel and Alora had slipped into the passenger seat without asking why, because she was realizing that some things are not meant to be explained in regard to this man.
She looked out the window at the passing city.
October had crept into the streets overnight, that particular grey that wasn't quite cold yet but was already promising to be, the kind of morning when everything felt a little more final than it really was. Or perhaps it was the reverse. Perhaps today was as definitive as it seemed.
She didn't say anything.
Neither did he.
