Lyla

The GPS chimed at me to turn left at the last possible second, causing me to careen across two lanes of traffic while wincing at the honking drivers behind me.

“Sorry…” I mumbled, but only to myself.

Up ahead, the sign for the airport flashed at me with gold letters, signaling for me to get off at the next exit. It was late at night, well past midnight at this point, so pulling into the airport pick-up and ...