She waited in line, excited about being here, nervous and filled with resolve to do whatever it took to reconnect with her sisters. They were being given a second chance. She wasn’t going to blow it.

The woman at the counter waved her forward. Claire dragged the two suitcases along as she approached.

“Hi. I have a reservation.”

“Name?”

“Claire Keyes.” Claire handed over her driver’s license and her platinum credit card.

The woman studied the driver’s license. “Do you have insurance or do you want coverage on the car?”

“I’ll take your coverage.” It was easier than explaining that she didn’t own a car and had, in fact, never owned a car. The only reason she had a driver’s license at all was because she’d insisted on lessons when she’d turned eighteen and had studied and practiced until she’d passed the test.

“Any tickets or accidents?” the woman asked.

Claire smiled. “Not one.” Getting a ticket or an accident would require actual driving. Something Claire hadn’t done more than once or twice in the past ten years.

There were a couple of forms to sign, then the woman handed back the license and credit card.

“Number sixty-eight. It’s a Malibu. You said midsize. I can get you something bigger, if you want.”

Claire blinked at her. “Number sixty-eight what?”

“Your car. It’s in slot sixty-eight. The keys are inside.”

“Oh, great. I’ll pass on something bigger.”

“Okay. You need a map?”

“Yes, please.”

Claire tucked the map into her purse, then dragged her suitcases out of the glass structure. She saw rows of cars and numbers at the end of each parking space. Counting as she went, she found number sixty-eight and stared at the silver Malibu.