I hesitate. Even if Josh is right, and part of me thinks he is, leaving Brecken here feels ridiculous. There’s a good chance he’d freeze to death, and I’m not super keen on letting someone die based on speculation from a handful of sleep-deprived strangers.

On the other hand, he’s smack-dab in the center of all of this—the stealing, the thing with Corey—so can we risk being in the car with him again? What if Josh is right about none of this being an accident? What if Brecken doesn’t want us to get home?

Realistically, what could he do? We’ve been through his things, so we know he’s not hiding a stash of weapons or anything. How would he stop us?

Maybe hitting us like he hit Corey?

“You’re awfully quiet,” Harper says.

“There’s a lot to consider.” My last thought is still dancing up my spine with icy fingers. “A lot of terrible things have happened.”

“That doesn’t mean we need someone to blame. Brecken didn’t cause these things.”

Maybe. Maybe not. But I’m still not ready to get back in the car until I’m clear on one thing.

“Why are you defending him?” I ask.

“I’m not.”

I shake my head. “Yes, you are. All of this would come down on you more than any of the rest of us. The car is in your name.”

“That’s why I called the cops!”

“But you’re also treating Josh like he’s a monster for thinking maybe Brecken is a danger to the rest of us.”

“I’m not—” Harper cuts herself off and takes a deep breath, slowing down her words. “I’m not treating Josh like he’s a monster. Josh is a textbook nice guy.”

“So, what’s the problem?” I ask. “Why not listen to him?”

“Because guys like that give guys like Brecken a bad name.”

“I think Brecken is doing a fine job of giving Brecken a bad name.”

She shakes her head. “Forget it. You’re not going to understand.”

“Then explain it.”

Harper rubs her arms and sighs. “We should get in the car.”

“No!”

She stops short at that, staring at me. “Mira, try to take a—”

“Okay, this is part of the problem!” I exhale hard and look briefly skyward, trying to collect the thoughts rolling around in my head. “I don’t get some of this. You constantly treat me like…I don’t know, like your pet project or little sister.”

She looks down. “You just…”

“Remind you of someone?” I laugh. “I know.”