EMBER’S POV

Queenie doesn’t answer.

I glance over and she’s staring at the dashboard and tears are sliding down her cheeks in two clean lines and her mouth is pressed shut and she’s not making a sound.

She’s just sitting there, crying silently, and the silence is louder than anything she could have said because the answer is in the tears and the tears say no.

I don’t push. I don’t fill the quiet with comfort or platitudes.

I just let her cry, because sometimes that’s the kindest thing you can do.

After a while, she wipes her face, exhales, and straightens her shoulders the way women do when they’re...