Page 106 of Danger

He just looks at me like he’s memorizing my face for later.

And that—that’s all he does.

A desperate part of me is begging for him to say nothing happened, to plead his case, but he doesn’t.

That tells me everything I need to know.

“Oh,” I whisper. “Okay.”

“Winnie—” He opens his mouth. Not like he’s going to explain, but like he knows this is over. Then he stops. His jaw flexes.

Maybe this is better.

Maybe this is how things were meant to be.

I got caught up in some fairytale dream that doesn't exist.

I put the car in drive.

“Winnie,” he says again, sharper this time. “Don’t?—”

I pull onto the road before he can finish.

The ranch disappears behind me, swallowed by the dust and the ache splitting me straight down the middle. My vision blurs, headlights smearing into long white streaks as I cry. I swipe at my face, furious with myself.

Get it together. Just get home.

That’s when the steering wheel jerks. Hard.

“What the?—”

The car pulls to the right, violent and sudden, tires screaming as I fight it. My heart slams into my ribs. I hit the brakes, but they don’t respond the way they should. Everything happens at once—too fast, too loud.

A flash of headlights.

A scream I don’t recognize as my own.

Then impact.

Metal shrieks. Glass explodes. My body slams forward, pain blooming white-hot through my chest as the world tilts and snaps.

The car comes to a dead stop with a bone-deep crunch.

Silence.

For a second, I don’t feel anything at all.

Then pain rushes in, sharp and dizzying. My head swims. Something warm trickles down my temple. I blink, trying to focus.

That's when I see it.

The folded note I found the other day. It's still in the little cubby beneath the dash, surrounded by glittering shards of broken glass.

Four words. Written rough.

Please don’t leave us

My breath stutters. Danger’s face flashes in my mind. Fisher’s shy smile. The way his little hand fit so easily into mine.