his should go back after  Sinister 3.
Sam reached down to turn on the stereo, her hand stopped mid air, held in place.  Soft word breathed across her ear.
“I am not there.  Sam, take care of Michie for me.”
The words repeated fading out to no sound at all.  The hair on Sam’s neck stood up, and a shiver went down her spine. The voice was familiar.  It was Harlan’s.  She stopped the car.
Sam’s own voice startled her more than Harlan’s had.  Shaking her head, to clear it, she checked her rear view mirror and no longer saw the lights of the hearst.   She need to get going.  She couldn’t sit here forever.  Sam finished reaching for the stereo, turned it on, and released the break.
Not the time, nor the place, I will think about this later she told herself over the thumping rock beat through the speakers drowning out the quiet of the night.  She switched the station to blues, then turned it off. Quiet was better.


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