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I got sick on those when I was a kid. It’s like we’re back in the 1950s.”
    As Arlo and Elaine stood sniggering over the snack selection, Maura picked up a newspaper and headed to the cash register to pay for it.
    “You know that’s a week old, don’t you?” said Grace.
    Maura turned, surprised that the girl had spoken to her. For once, Grace wasn’t wearing her ear buds, but her iPod was still playing, the music issuing out a tinny whine.
    “It’s last week’s paper,” Grace pointed out. “Everything in this store is expired. The potato chips are, like, a year old. I bet even the petrol is bad.”
    “Thanks for pointing it out. But I need something to read, and this will have to do.” Maura pulled out her wallet, wondering how the word petrol ended up in an American teenager’s vocabulary. But that was just one more detail about Grace that puzzled her. The girl walked out the door, skinny hips swaying slightly in skintight jeans, oblivious to her effect on others. The old man standing behind the cash register gaped after her, as though he’d never seen such an exotic creature saunter through his store.
    By the time Maura stepped outside again, Grace was already in the Suburban, but this time she was in the backseat. “The princess finally relinquished her throne,” Doug whispered to Maura as he opened the door for her. “You get to sit up front with me.”
    “I didn’t mind sitting in back.”
    “Well, I minded. I had a chat with her, and she’s cool with it now.”
    Elaine and Arlo came out of the store, laughing, and climbed into their seats.
    “That,” said Arlo, “was like a time capsule. Did you see those Pez dispensers? They had to be twenty years old. And that old guy behind the counter was like some character out of The Twilight Zone .”
    “Yeah, he was strange,” said Doug, starting the engine.
    “Creepy is the word I’d use. He said he hoped we weren’t headed to Kingdom Come.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “You people are sinners!” Arlo boomed out in his best televangelist voice. “And you are on the road to Hay-ell!”
    “Maybe he was just telling us to be careful,” said Elaine. “With this snow and all.”
    “It seems to be slowing down.” Doug leaned forward to peer up at the sky. “In fact, I think I can see a patch of blue up there.”
    “Always the optimist,” said Arlo. “That’s our Dougie.”
    “Positive thinking. It works every time.”
    “Just get us there in time for lunch.”
    Doug looked at the GPS. “Lola says ETA eleven forty-nine. You’re not going to starve.”
    “I already am starving, and it’s only ten thirty.”
    The GPS’s female voice commanded: “Bear left at next fork.”
    Arlo burst out in song: “Whatever Lola wants …”
    “Lola gets,” Doug joined in, and he veered left at the fork.
    Maura looked out her window, but she didn’t spot any patch of blue sky. All she saw was low-hanging clouds and the white flanks of mountains in the distance.
    “It’s starting to snow again,” said Elaine.

W E MUST HAVE TAKEN A WRONG TURN,” SAID A RLO .
    The snow was swirling thicker than ever, and in between swipes of the windshield wipers, the glass instantly clouded over in a thick lattice of flakes. They’d been winding steadily up the mountain for nearly an hour now, and the road had long since vanished under an ever-deepening carpet of white. Doug drove with neck craned forward, straining to make out what lay ahead.
    “Are you sure this is the right way?” said Arlo.
    “Lola said so.”
    “Lola is a disembodied voice in a box.”
    “I programmed her for the most direct route. This is it.”
    “But is it the fastest route?”
    “Hey, do you want to drive?”
    “Whoa, man. I’m just asking.”
    Elaine said, “We haven’t seen another car since we turned onto this road. Not since that weirdo gas station. Why isn’t anyone else here?”
    “Do you have a map?” asked Maura.
    “I think there’s one in the