"Do you know a place?" I asked.
My voice came out awkwardly, and I hated how obvious it sounded. The reality of what she was asking started settling into my head the farther we walked.
Maribel nodded once.
We left the beach behind and moved away from the busy stretch of Boardwalk. We did not go far enough to leave the area entirely, but she led me toward streets I had never explored before. The buildings around us looked abandoned in a more complete way than the Whitesun or the hotels Marlon's people used. Windows were broken. Sand had piled against doorways. Some signs hung loose from their frames, creaking whenever the wind caught them.
There were no people around.
At the end of one narrow street, Maribel stopped in front of a small two-story building.
It looked like almost like an old motel, though smaller than most of the hotels around Atlantic City. Several doors lined each floor, each one leading into what had probably once been rented as a separate studio.
