The rain tapped steadily against the dark sedan, creating a private canopy around Cam and Ethan. Inside, their breaths floated in the stillness between intermittent wipers. Cam stared out the window, watching rivers of water streak across the glass.

Ethan cleared his throat again. “Are you mad at me?” he asked softly. “Do you hate me?”

She turned slowly, meeting his eyes—grey-blue reflections of dripping clouds. “Why would I hate you?” she whispered. “Did you ...