Lyra’s POV
The first part of the journey was strangely quiet. Both of us made an unspoken agreement not to exchange words as the car drove over the road that steadily grew more lonely.
Boredom stretched, my only entertainment and the breaks I got from the silence was from the radio playing.
And well, him.
The quiet concentration in his face, decades of expertise behind the wheel as his veiny hands maneuvered through every mile.
Several times, I had to remind myself that this man was older–much older. But before I could catch myself looking at him once more, he was already looking at me. The first color rushed up to my neck and my eyes flung to the windscreen and remained there for another 20 minutes.
This was too much.
I just wanted to be a good mother to Kenny.
But instead I was o
