HAYDEN

The drive stretched out before us, the highway flanked by bare winter trees that clawed at the sky. My hands gripped the steering wheel tighter than they needed to, knuckles white, jaw clenched. Every mile closer to my parents’ house felt like another weight added to my chest.

Beside me, Coleen shifted in her seat for the fifth time since we’d left campus. She fiddled with the strap of her bag, then her bracelet, then the edge of her sweater. Her nerves radiated like static. ...