The miles between Hardin and New York blurred into a ribbon of highway and changing landscapes. We had been driving for two days, stopping at small motels and quiet diners where no one knew our names or our scars. Darius kept one hand on the wheel and the other often linked with mine, as if touching me helped steady us both. I watched the world pass outside the window, golden fields giving way to denser forests and rolling hills, but my mind kept drifting ahead to what waited for us.
Tonight we had stopped earlier than usual at a modest motel nestled near a quiet lake. The room was simple, with faded floral curtains and a bed that creaked when we sat on it, but it felt like ours. Darius closed the door and immediately pulled me into his arms, burying his face in my hair.
“Long day,” he m
