"I will," she assured him. She'd have to focus somewhat until they were out on the open road. Maps and directions weren't Libera's strong point, but she could find her way better once the skyscrapers and traffic lights weren't hedging her in.
But eventually they were out the city and Libera could almost even see stars beyond the streetlights above - or at least she could imagine them. She missed the sight of stars. The sky in Rome had always been so bright, but not so here in America, not for a long time.
She flicked on the radio and moved through stations until she found some sort of quiet jazz song that suited her mood. Then she lay with her cheek against the headrest and watched Honos drive, his eyes focused on the road. "Do you think she'll remember what we look like?" The twins had been young when Aurelia started distancing them, less than ten Libera thought she remembered. Did kids remember the faces of people they saw only a few times a year before that age?