Excerpt from The Night Always Comes by Willy Vlautin, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

Three more times she checked on him and always he was asleep. She clocked out at noon, changed her clothes in the women's bathroom, and left with two ham-and-cheese sandwiches, a coffee, an orange soda, and two pains aux raisins.


The day was dark and the rain continued and she drove through the Pearl District toward the freeway. Twenty years ago the area was mostly deserted warehouses; now high-end lofts and stores, restaurants, and condominiums stood in their place. With her right hand she wiped the rag across the inside of the windshield and they crossed the Broadway Bridge to the east side and headed north on Williams. There were more new apartment buildings and restaurants and bars. She couldn't even remember what had been on Williams or Mississippi Avenue five years before. Twenty years ago her mother would have never set foot on Mississippi and now they walked the street on the weekends. They looked in shops at clothes and shoes they could never afford and at menus in restaurants they would never go in. Their family place, a Greek diner on North Skidmore named The Overlook, had just closed. They had eaten there twice a month for twenty-five years. The owners were offered more and more money for the land and eventually it was enough that they sold. The restaurant was torn down and construction on an apartment building had begun.

At Portland Community College, Lynette parked and they got out. She ate her sandwich while they walked through campus. In a lecture room inside Cascade Hall, they sat in the back at the end of a long table. She unwrapped Kenny's sandwich and opened his soda while seventy-five students arrived to Intro to Accounting.

She leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Remember we have to be quiet, okay? That means not a peep. No farting either." But twenty minutes into the lecture Kenny started farting. Nearby students gave them looks and Kenny pulled on Lynette's shirt.

"Is it an emergency or can you wait?" she asked.

Kenny looked worried. He tugged at her again, so she walked him out of the lecture hall to the men's bathroom. She led him into a stall and then leaned against a sink outside it and waited. "Remember to pull down your pants and underwear. Remember to sit before you go. Pants, underwear, sit, and go."

A student came in and used the urinal and left. Five minutes passed.

"Come on, I have to hear at least some of the lecture. Are you almost done?" She opened the stall door to see him smiling and still sitting.

"Come on, don't play. Go and wipe." She closed the stall door, waited two minutes more, and opened it again. "You done?"

Kenny shook his head and again smiled.

"Alright, wipe one more time for me."

Kenny took a handful of toilet paper from the roll and wiped himself.

"Alright, underwear and then your pants."

Kenny pulled up his underwear, then the sweats, and walked out of the stall. She checked the toilet, flushed it, and helped him wash his hands, then they went back to class.

The teacher, a middle-aged man from India, had a strong accent and a weak voice that wasn't quite loud enough to hear from where she sat, and the room was warm and she grew tired. Her brother played with her phone and she began to fall asleep and the class ended. A teaching assistant stood near the exit handing back the first exam of the term. She had passed but with a 73 percent. For a week straight she had studied and yet only managed a 73.

They walked back through campus to her car. The windows fogged as they sat in the parking lot and tears welled in Lynette's eyes and she slumped back in her seat. Kenny pulled on her coat. "Don't worry," she whispered. "I'm just tired. Hold my hand for a little." She put her hand on his hand. "I always wished I was smart, but I guess I have to face the fact I'm just not. I only need a minute, okay? Just give me a minute." She closed her eyes. A song played on the radio and she gave herself until it was over and then opened her eyes and tried to smile. "Alright," she said. "I'm all better now. Let's get you home."

Excerpted from The Night Always Comes by Willy Vlautin. Copyright © 2021 by Willy Vlautin. Excerpted by permission of Harper. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.