The road is unspools in front of us like a bad decision you can’t rewind.
Rafael drives fast but not reckless, eyes on the dark ribbon of asphalt, hands loose on the wheel in a way that tells me he’s more tense than he looks.
Wind hums against the windows.
My ears ring with the silence I’ve chosen.
Every time my phone buzzes in my pocket, my stomach lurches. I don’t pull it out.
If it’s Mia, she’ll forgive me eventually.
If it’s Dante…
I’m not ready to see what he says when I’ve already answered him by leaving.
“Breathe,” Rafael says quietly, eyes still forward. “You’re vibrating.”
“I’m fine,” I lie.
He snorts. “You’re gripping that bag like it’s the last life vest on the Titanic.”
I glance down.
My fingers are white‑knuckled around the strap.
I force them to unclench.
“I fee
