“Please Trust Me,” the Driver Said as He Hid Me in the Trunk on My Son’s Wedding Day.

like the polished woman who’d been having dinner at our house. She smiled, said something I couldn’t hear, gestured inside. Blake stepped in, and the door closed.

“Watch that door,” Frederick said, pointing not to the front entrance but to a side door. “Not the front. The side. She doesn’t know we’re here. She doesn’t know you’re about to see who she continue reading …