Brittany's POV

The headlights cut through the darkness ahead as I grip the steering wheel, my knuckles white with tension. I've been driving for hours now, following nothing but gut instinct and fragments of half-remembered details from four years ago.

Damn it, why didn't I pay attention when Lorenzo drove us back?

I hate myself for being so lost in my own thoughts that day. I was too busy nursing my wounded heart and trying to forget about gray-green ...