I slid into the driver’s seat, the familiar scent of leather and coffee still lingering from earlier. I threw my bag in the passenger seat and shut the door, wincing slightly as it thudded too loudly in the parking lot. For a second, I just sat there, hands resting on the steering wheel, my mind a million miles away.
I pulled out my phone and tapped out a quick message to Sarah: Okay — simple and to the point. That’s all I could muster.
After hitting send, I shoved the phone into the cup holder and started the engine. The engine purred to life, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I had been holding. The car felt like a cocoon, a small piece of normal in the chaos that seemed to surround me lately.
The road was empty as I pulled out of the parking lot, just the soft hum of the
