The road stretched out like a dark ribbon, wet and gleaming under the streetlights. My hands were tight around the wheel, my knuckles bruised. Kelvin’s blood still clung to my skin, a reminder of how close I came to killing him.

The night air was cold through the half-open window. It carried the smell of rain, metal, and gasoline and I needed that. Something real. Something that wasn’t soaked in lies.

I should’ve felt lighter. I wasn’t. Every mile only pulled me deeper into my head. Lyra’s voice still echoed there, the look in her eyes when she told me what really happened that night.

My chest tightened. I pressed...