It did not surprise her that Brannon had gone back, as she had, too. It also did not surprise her that they missed one another. The distance between New York and Missouri would allow for plenty of misses, especially when forced to take back roads to avoid that massive graveyards of automobiles that have never been removed from some of the most congested areas on the highway. Alana looked on to Luke as he began filling in some of the many gaps of the last few years and braced herself when he concluded.
She flashed a little smile at him, as if to say, It's okay, when his voice trailed off. "Michael--" her voice stammered slightly, she cleared her throat, and continued, "Michael and I went back to Missouri, too. Mom and Dad were okay. Last time we saw them, it was right before everything really got bad. We went to his parents' in Rhode Island--"
Words were caught again in her throat and one hand lifted to cover her mouth. A sob might have slipped out and what she had to say needed to be heard. This was not on Luke to tell his Uncle; she had to do it. "Bans, Luke found us in Rhode Island. We've been in East Providence for, well, most of the last few years. Michael didn't think it was safe for us to keep leaving and coming back."
Now she mustered that O'Brien stiff upper-lip and got it out. "We can under siege two weeks ago. Michael's died so that we could get out." Her body went rigid. Brannon was the first person she told and even in her soft voice, the truth sounded harsh and cold on her ears. "Luke got us down here. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have made it."