“Trees are spooky at night,” Lucile whispered as she gripped her companion’s arm a little more tightly.
“Where are we?” Florence whispered.
“I couldn’t guess.”
“Pretty far out. I counted five stops after the lights of the city disappeared.”
“Listen.”
“What is it?”
“Water rushing along somewhere.”
“Might be the river. She said there was one.”
“Rivers rush like that in the mountains but not here. Must be the lake shore.”
“Hist—”