Your mom, Leona, hums as she stretches after the long drive, her eyes fixed on the road you just came from.

The door opens.

Then the driver’s door opens.

He’s tall. Lanky, with dark curls falling over his forehead. He’s wearing a simple white tee and sunglasses, but there’s something about the way he moves—loose, confident, like he owns the ground beneath him.

He pulls the sunglasses off.

And you freeze.