CHAPTER 25 | Libby
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Outside, the weather is turning cold and there are storm clouds rolling in from the west. Nothing like some freezing rain, I think, scowling. I follow Finn to the car and he opens the door for me, shuts it behind me, and says nothing when he climbs back behind the wheel.
“How—”
“One second.”
“What—” And then I realize what’s going on: Finn’s fighting himself off the edge. He starts the car and pulls us out of the driveway, hands gone white-knuckled around the steering wheel. Minutes later, he sees a gas station and pulls in. We park next to souped-up Honda and Finn stares through the windshield, watching people walk past us like he’s never seen anything like them.
“I don’t even know what to say,” he manages at last, voice shaking.
Still on the ed
