"Ollie, are you finally going to tell me where we're going?" Tate called from the passenger seat for the umpteenth time this afternoon. She had a black blindfold on, which I carefully tested against the sun before driving off to make sure she wouldn't see nothing at all I needed to make sure it would really be a surprise.

What I could no longer watch were her hands. I was afraid that it wouldn't last and that somewhere along the way he would take it away. But she didn't do that, and I was probably pleased with the trust she put in me.

But apparently she couldn't forgive those questions....