“No,” Conor said. “I guess not.” “I guess not either.”
She tore around a corner so fast, Conor had to grab onto the door handle to stay upright.
“But we’re going to have to learn, you know,” she said. Conor swallowed. “I know.”
His grandma made a little sobbing noise. “You do know, don’t you?” she said. “Of course you do.”
She coughed to clear her throat as she quickly looked both ways at an approaching cross-roads before driving right through the red light.
Conor wondered how late it was. There was hardly any traffic around.
“But you know what, grandson?” his grandma said. “We have something in common.”
“We do?” Conor asked, as the hospital lurched into view down the road.
“Oh, yes,” his grandma said, pressing even harder on the accelerator, and he saw that her tears were still coming.
“What’s that?” he asked. She pulled into the first empty spot she saw on the road near the hospital,
running her car up onto the kerb with a thudding stop.
“Your mum,” she said, looking at him full on. “That’s what we have in common.”
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