Eighty-five. The arrow tipped up.
"And I'm going to talk to Darcy," I said. "About the phone."
"They won't let you."
"Maybe not."
"They won't. Marco's mom works there, in returns. She says they fired a guy for having his phone out."
"Then I'll find out about days. Or something else. I don't know yet." I looked at him sideways. In the light of the turning moon his face kept changing, light and dark, light and dark. He looked about nine. He looked about forty. "I don't know what I'm going to do, Kel. I'm not going to lie to you and say I've got it figured out. I don't. But you're not doing this by yourself anymore. That's the part I know."
He was quiet a long time.
"Ninety-one," he said finally, looking up at the bed. "She's in the gray."
"Then go to sleep."
"You go to sleep."
"I'm not tired."