Already Decided (Continued)

The smell of diesel and reheated coffee clung to the aisle carpet, the same as when they’d crossed the border that morning. Outside, the wet asphalt gleamed under streetlights. She pictured Ms. Reyes at the taco stand, the kids riding bikes past the last streetlight on the east side. They’d still vote next year, still drop their ballots in the box. They just wouldn’t know the map had already decided for them.