For five seconds, we stared at each other.
Then Ryan lowered the syringe.
“You’re sleepwalking,” he said. “You need help.”
He shoved past me hard enough to bruise my shoulder and disappeared.
My legs gave out. I collapsed beside Sophie’s bed.
Her eyes fluttered open.
“Mrs. Hayes?” she rasped. “I’m so sorry. The van… I couldn’t control it.”
I took her hand.
“Sophie, listen to me. Right before the crash, what happened?”
She trembled.
“A black pickup followed us down the mountain road. It hit our bumper twice. Then a man pulled up beside me. He had a scar on his chin. He pointed at the back tire like something was wrong. I panicked. I hit the brakes, and the tire blew. The wheel jerked out of my hands.”
A man with a scar.
Travis.
I kissed her forehead.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. You gave me what I needed.”
