28 My cousin looked at me looking at her, daring me to turn on the engine and drive away. I held her gaze as the car rocked more precariously, as cracks from the larger rocks formed on the windshield. I know you, her eyes said. You’d never do it again. Not when it’s only you to save. Deep down, you’re just a scared little child. But what she didn’t know was that all those years of being on my own had taught me something: I was also a survivor. So I turned the key. I put the car into Drive. Watched her expression change from smug to confused to astonished. I pressed my foot on the pedal and accelerated as hard and fast as I could – very hard, very fast; it was their top-of-the-line Range Rover, after all – aiming straight for my cousin. I saw her react, move out of the way. I felt the c

