She sat in the back seat; he sat on the floor, legs hanging out the door. After several minutes, she said, "It's finally started, hadn't it?"
"Depends on how you look at it, Sam. I think it started a long time ago, only now the senseless violence isn't just in Africa or the barrio or the ghetto - now it's in everyone's face. I've seen this coming for a long time. I have to guess, so did your folks. That's why they moved out here - yes?"
The reply was soft, "Yes, someone broke into our house while we were out shopping. Within the year, Dad had sold the house, found the one out here, resigned his position and we moved here. I had to give up all my friends; I was just starting high school..."
Robbie shifted, pulling his legs inside, crossing them, he faced her directly.
"And it was hard, almost impossible; to make friends, no matter what you did or how hard you tried. Always the outsider, even after - what - living here for four years?"
"Yes," this almost a sob.