The road to the airport stretched long. Snow lingered in shallow ridges along the roadside, glittering faintly under the streetlamps.
Michelle sat rigid in the passenger seat.
She hadn’t looked back again.
She was afraid that if she did, she would ask Charles to turn the car around.
The heater hummed softly. The windshield wipers dragged lazily across faint mist. The world inside the car felt suspended—like the pause between inhale and exhale.
Charles drove with both hands steady on the wheel, his jaw set, his posture composed. But there was something coiled beneath that composure. Something assessing.
He glanced at her once.
Twice.
Finally, he spoke.
“So,” he said carefully, “Jeremiah.”
Michelle swallowed. Her throat still burned from tears she hadn’t allowed herself to finish c
