After I robbed the bank in the seedy part of town, you shot several onlookers' hands so that they couldn't call the cops. Good thing for us the cops didn't want to drive down there, anyway. We had crossed the state line by the time they found someone willing to interview the witnesses. But we had left no fingerprints, and we'd seen enough Forensic Files to know to dump the gun. We stopped at a Speedway somewhere in mid-Indiana where the man behind the counter was much less concerned about us than he was about the satellite TV. You bought a twelve pack, and I got the dog some water. We spent the night sleeping in the rest stop, and in the morning we changed the cash into poker chips at the casino on the river. I was pretty sure I loved you, and you were pretty sure that was close enough. We'd go for decades without questioning it. Our kids would be none the wiser.