Here

Erik drove north out of the Chicago city limits toward Lake Forest. Rain drummed on the roof of the car as we rode in silence, leaving behind Chicago and the murders; the law firm of Dorman, Wallace, and Edwards; and my friends. My support system. There was a sense of finality to that chapter of my life as a new chapter commenced.

The changing landscape as we drove reflected the internal changes in me. Skyscrapers shrank into the distance. Large office complexes grew fewer and more scattered. Trees popped up and then groves of trees. Here, it was more heavily forested, lush and green, especially now in midsummer. Here, the foliage swallowed small buildings whole.

This part of the state reminded me of my childhood, of family, of lakes in Wisconsin. Here, I was returning to my roots.

Richard lived on Murray Lane, and it didn’t go unnoticed by me that Murray was the last name of Ms. Thena Murray of Bram Stoker’s Dracula before she married Jonathan Harker.

Is that a coincidence or fat