Tap. Tap. Tap.
â€œDo you have to do that?â€
â€œYes.â€ Tap. Tap. Tap.
â€œAre you certain?â€
â€œYes.â€ I twisted around in the vanâ€™s passenger seat and glared at the older woman in the backseat. I tapped my fingertips on the window glass three more times to emphasize my point.
Alexia Lowe wore what I call her Mom Faceâ€”a flat, disapproving...