Layla's POV
The unexpected delay irritates me long before it even begins to worry me.
I've been inching forward for ten minutes, brake lights bleeding red across the wet asphalt, the radio cycling through emergency updates that don't tell me anything useful. Apparently there's an accident ahead, that's what the reporters say anyway. Which means that the lanes are closed until everything is cleared and the Emergency services have done whatever they need to do.
I check the time on the dashboard and click my tongue under my breath.
I hope everyone's okay. I really do. But I also hope they clear it quickly, because I am already recalculating my arrival window and irrationally annoyed at the ripple effect that this delay will have on the rest of the day.
I ease back into my sea
