For the last half hour, the only sound in the car has been the country station playing on the radio. Now, Hank Williams is singing ‘Your Cheatin’ Heart.’
You struggle to formulate an apology, an explanation—anything that might end the silence. But the words clog in your throat.
Instead you say, “Did you know Hank Williams was only twenty-nine when he died?”
“I didn’t know that,” she says.
For a moment, her voice hangs in the still air. You rummage through your mind, but you find nothing else to say. She turns from you and cries quietly into her window.