Storm
We were on our way back to the Celtic Moon Pack, and for the second time in a few days, I found myself driving down the same road.
Only this time, I was driving like my life depended on it.
Maybe it did.
My hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles were white. I kept my eyes fixed on the road ahead, desperately trying to remember the turns. I had only travelled this route twice before—once when we left the pack and again when we returned to the university.
And now, with my mind racing and my nerves stretched to breaking point, I was terrified I was going to take a wrong turn and get us completely lost.
“Lena, what is going on?” Lilly finally asked from the back seat. “Why are we going back home?”
“I’ll tell you when we get there.”
“That’s not an answe
