Minnie stared at her car. The hood was still smoking. The engine made a sound like something settling that didn’t sound settled at all.

Twenty minutes later, Top straightened, wiped his hands on a rag, and delivered the verdict nobody wanted. The car wasn’t continuing.

Nobody said anything. The sun beat down on the asphalt. Somewhere in the distance, a semi rumbled past.

Grant’s voice came from somewhere behind the Jeep. His arms were crossed, his expression already warning Top not to continue.

Austin was leaning against the passenger door, baseball cap low over his eyes, looking entirely too calm about being volunteered for something he hadn’t agreed to.

Silence. Top pointed at the Jeep.

Then he looked straight at you. Something in your stomach dropped before he even spoke.

Behind you, Grant scoffed. Austin pushed away from the door.

Which was how you ended up standing in the gravel beside a smoking car, watching your only realistic escape route climb into another vehicle and pull the door shut.

Top’s engine started. Kacey waved. Minnie gave you an apologetic wince through the back window.