I had driven very little in my life and a stick shift only once. Still, maneuvering the sports car seemed fairly simple, this due in great part to my mood, which was increasingly relaxed and euphoric, though not without an undercurrent of impending doom. Eva had gone to pieces. She’d lost her tiara as well as the mink shrug and her hair blew in wild tendrils out of the car window, as if a malevolent force would at any moment yank her into the dark overgrown gully that bordered the road. She would not stop babbling about the moon and the impending eclipse. She urged me to go faster.
“Dear God, Wolfe will kill me if I miss that damn eclipse. That moment where it all goes red,” she said several times, slamming her fist onto my leg as if that itself would accelerate the vehicle.
Thankfully t
