‘It is,’ Portia says.

We’re on a two-lane road, in the right lane, and the silver SUV is coming up on our left side. ‘Slow down. See if they’ll pass us,’ I say.

Eddie does. He’s looking in the side mirror, watching the truck.

The car behind us honks because we’re slowing down. Portia flips off the driver, who looks like a teenager. He can’t move into the fast lane because the pickup blocks his way.

‘It’s going to pass,’ Portia says.

‘Then they can’t be following us,’ Eddie says.

No one answers him.

‘Wait,’ I say. ‘They’re slowing down.’

‘Waaaay down,’ Portia says.

The teenager gets into the fast lane and passes us. The truck stays back.

‘Get off at the next exit,’ I say. ‘Then get right back on. See if they follow.’

‘You watch police shows, don’t you?’ Portia asks.

Felix answers for me. ‘Movies. She likes the movies.’

‘Just do it,’ I say to Eddie.

He does. He increases his speed until we’re moving normally again. The pickup does the same. When the next exit comes up, Eddie turns off without using his blinker. Everyone watches out the back window.

I’m looking for the auburn-haired woman.

‘Moved to the slow lane,’ Portia says.

Eddie stops at the first light. We’re below the interstate now, waiting for the truck to come down the off-ramp, and I can feel all of us hold our collective breath. We do not exhale until the pickup appears.

They are following us.

Eddie swears under his breath. ‘Shit.’

‘Light’s green,’ Felix says.

Eddie doesn’t step on the gas. The next thing I know Portia’s out of the car, storming toward the truck coming up behind us.

They stop when they see her.

Felix follows her out of the car.

Krista takes out her phone. ‘I’m calling 911.’

‘What do you want?’ Portia screams loud enough to cause an avalanche.

The guy in the truck guns it, tires squealing, and takes off down the road. Away from Portia, away from us, and they go right. Away from the interstate.

Gone. Just like that, they’re gone.

‘The police are on their way,’ Krista says.

We wait, because that’s what you do when you call the police and they have your name, phone number, and location. They have it before you even say a word, and this is true everywhere, even Oklahoma. Personally, I’m beginning to wonder about this state. Last time I was here was when I told Nikki about Grandpa and everything exploded.

At least this time it’s only about the truck.

‘I’ll do the talking,’ Eddie says.

Krista starts to argue and decides against it. I exhale. And I send Eddie a text.

The cops are going to think we’re crazy.

He reads it, turns to me, and nods.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m scared of whatever that truck is doing, but I also know we have no information that will interest the cops.

Whoever is in that truck knows what they’re doing.

Before I have a chance to text all of this to Eddie, the cavalry arrives. Otherwise known as the Oklahoma Highway Patrol. Two of them, on motorcycles, roar up to us. Our car is now on the side of the road and we’re all standing outside of it except for Portia, who has climbed back inside the car and refuses to move.

Both patrolmen are male and both wear – yes – aviator sunglasses.

Eddie introduces himself, establishing that he is our leader. Krista is at his side, arms crossed over her chest.

Portia sends me a text.

Don’t let Krista talk.

I shrug, assuming Portia’s watching from the truck. What does she want me to do – tackle Krista to shut her up? Yes, probably.

Eddie starts talking, explaining everything from Alabama to Oklahoma. He’s using his charming voice, smiling and laughing, turning red like he’s embarrassed his wife called the police for this kind of thing. A good effort, but it still sounds bananas.

And there is no way to stop Krista.

‘They put nails in our tire,’ she says.

‘You saw this?’ says one of the patrolman. The name on his badge is Feldman.

Eddie shrugs. ‘Not saw them, exactly. But –’

‘Who else would’ve done it?’ Krista says. ‘I saw one of them in the parking lot the same night.’

‘Which parking lot?’ Feldman says.

‘At a motel, not here, but I mean they’ve been following us for a while,’ Krista says.

‘And the starter relay?’ says the other patrolman. His name is Pineda. ‘Anyone see who took that?’

No one answers.

Krista huffs. ‘I mean, come on!’ she says. ‘I don’t have to see every little thing to know what’s going on.’

Portia was right for staying in the car, and I wonder if it was college or the strip club that made my little sister smarter than me. Or maybe it’s because she’s single. I’ll have to spend some time pondering that when I’m not with law enforcement.

‘What exactly would you like us to do?’ Pineda says.

Eddie jumps in before Krista does. ‘Look, we probably overreacted. It’s been a weird trip for us, and to be honest, we’re all a little raw right now. Our grandfather passed away and we’re bringing him to his final resting place. That’s why we’re on this trip.’

The patrolmen exchange looks. Feldman turns and walks back to his motorcycle, pushing up his sunglasses as he goes.

Pineda sighs. ‘You should have taken a plane.’

He isn’t wrong.

Oklahoma is where strange things happen, both now and then.

Grandpa started feeling woozy from the pain pills along this same thirty-four-mile stretch, and he pulled over as soon as he could. Nikki and I laid him out in the back of the van. He was slurring his words like he had been drinking.

‘We have to call 911,’ Eddie said. ‘Then Mom and Dad.’ He reached into Grandpa’s pocket for the cell phone.

‘I have it,’ Nikki said, holding it up for him to see.

‘You call, then.’

Nikki shook her head. ‘We’re not calling anyone. He isn’t sick.’

‘Look at him. How can you –’

‘He’s had too many pills,’ she said.

‘How do you know?’

‘I switched them around.’

She stared at Eddie, daring him to say something. He looked at me. I looked to Grandpa, who was out of it but not unconscious. He understood what Nikki said.

‘Why?’ Grandpa said.

We were in the van, pulled over in the parking lot of a fast-food restaurant right off the interstate, and we all stared at Nikki. Even I had no idea. I never asked her why because I didn’t want to look stupid.

‘Because of what you did to Grandma,’ she said.

‘What are you –’

Nikki held up her hand to shut him up. ‘Don’t. She told me everything.’

Grandpa tried to sit up. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Oh, you don’t?’ Nikki bent down, sticking her face close to his. ‘You don’t remember hitting her?’