Sarah stuffed the money, birth certificate and diploma in the side zippered pocket of her backpack. She closed the safe deposit box, stepped out of the small room, and signaled to the bank lady, letting her know she was finished. Jake met Sarah in the lobby and laid his arm across her shoulders in that possessive way he had.

"You get all your money and papers?"

"Yes." She gave him a sidelong glance and they strode to where he’d parked his father's pickup. She scooted in from the driver’s side, leaving just enough room for Jake to slide in next to her—the way she knew he liked. He squeezed Sarah’s thigh before pulling the truck onto the street, and his hand rested on her leg as he drove. The backpack was on the seat beside her.

Jake parked the truck on icy slush in front of her house and turned to look at her. “Think your old man’s home?”

“Don’t call him that. No, Stan’s still at work. Ma should be here, though.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay. Well, I’ll meet you there tomorrow. Bus leaves at four, right?” He ran a finger back and forth across Sarah’s cheek and dipped his head to get her to look into his eyes. “You looking forward to getting away from this mess?” His eyes swept over her head to look at the house. “And ...” Jake lifted her chin and smirked, “being together?” His brows moved in a suggestive gesture.