KEIRA’s POV

"I'll drive Papa," I suggested as we walked down the driveway.

Papa was about to protest, but he shrugged and rummaged into his pocket for his keys.

"Alright,"

I stepped towards the car door and tried to pull the door open, but it refused to budge.

"Oh, the car doors are locked. Let me," Papa offered and walked over to where I stood.

He stood beside me, his arms brushing against my injured arm through the wooly sweater. I winced and jolted back in ...