The top search result for “Unless you leave a leg behind” was a news article called “How White-Collar Fugitives Survive on the Lam;”
the quote in question referred to how difficult it is to fake your own death.
“The jogger’s mouth” made no sense to me, and searching turned up nothing except for a bunch of people jogging with their mouths open.
But of course we all put ridiculous things in our notes apps that only make sense to us. That’s what notes are for.
Maybe he’d just seen a jogger with an interesting mouth. I felt bad for Noah, but eventually I set the list aside.
Harold and I made it to Applebee’s half an hour early that afternoon.
For some reason, I was scared to actually get out of the car,
but if you pulled down the center segment of Harold’s backseat, you could reach directly into the trunk.
So I wiggled my way back there and fumbled around until I’d found the tote bag with the money, my dad’s phone, and its car charger.
I stuffed the bag under the passenger seat, plugged in my dad’s phone, and waited for it to charge enough to turn on.
Years ago, Mom had backed up all Dad’s pictures and emails onto a computer and multiple hard drives,
but I liked swiping through them on his phone—partly because that’s how I’d always looked at them,
전체재생
다음페이지
문장검색