Rain sloshed across the windshield faster than the wipers could clear it, but Sam sped on. Exit after exit crawled by with excruciating slowness, numbers decreasing. The van simply would not drive fast enough. Every car was an obstacle of red light to dodge and weave. They could honk all they liked. Sam had greater fears to worry about. How could Jesse just disappear, thinking the worst, without even talking things over, running off with little more than a scribbled note? It took all of Sam’s control to hold steady. A heart attack could not feel much worse than this.

The exit loomed. Sam skidded into the lane and decelerated at a sickening rate. Several winding, wooded miles later, Sam collapsed out of the vehicle and stumbled toward an unknown house with glaring windows. Jesse appeared in the doorway with a face of disbelief, wordless, mouth open, by the time the rain had soaked Sam’s clothes. Sam simply stared and wept, unable to voice the hurt that so deeply cut their souls, to ask why things went wrong.