“The bom — oh, yes. In the early evening. The radio said some planes had been shot down, and something about long-range rockets. It wasn't very clear.”
He went behind the clerk's desk and scanned the key rack, finally taking several of them from their slots. “How did you escape? Where were you?”
“Oh, I wasn't here. I was with my class in Havana. Do you know where that is?”
“No.”
“A small town south of here; my class was on an archeological field trip. There are Indian mounds at Havana.”
“Still sticking to your story?”
“I am nineteen!” she declared with anger.
“I won't argue about it; I don't give a damn how old you are. Come on.” He walked to the stairs. “What happened to the rest of the class?”
“I don't know. When we heard the news on the radio, I came home. Home was… home was…”
“Bombed out?” He led her up the stairway.