The motel was called the Sunset. It was not on Sunset Boulevard. It was not near any sunset that anyone would want to watch. It was off Interstate 10, between nothing and nothing, in a part of Los Angeles that maps had not updated since 1994.
The room was on the second floor. The AC unit rattled every time it turned on, which was always, because the thermostat was broken and the only way to stop the rattling was to turn the whole thing off, which meant turning the cooling off, which meant sleeping with the window open and the traffic noise coming in like a river. Jake sat on the bed and watched Tina pack. She packed slowly, which...
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