Josh cocks his head. “What kind of choice would you have had, man? We were already searching everybody else’s bags.”

“It was his suggestion, though,” Harper says. I can tell she’s doubting this as much as I am now. “And Kayla hasn’t found anything else. Have you?”

Kayla shoves his bag away in a huff, saying nothing but breathing hard. Josh takes her hand and mutters something reassuring. She locks eyes with him and seems to settle.

“None of this makes sense.” I shake my head. “This is all random stuff. A book. A phone. A wallet. Whatever the hell Kayla is missing.”

“Gee, I wonder what that could be,” Brecken muses.

“Well, it’s all valuable except for the book,” Harper says. “Maybe we got hit at the gas station. Someone could have stolen our stuff and shoved the book in that cube while looking through Brecken’s bags. It’s possible right?”

“Possible,” I agree, but it doesn’t sit right. What thief would take the time to put everything back just so?

“Look, we need to get moving,” Harper says. “I’m freezing. And no offense, but I’m tired of spending Christmas Eve in a car with all of you. I want to be with my family. I need to get home.”

“Me too,” I say softly.

“Maybe we can stop at the next exit,” Harper says. “Sort it out then.”

“What if more stuff gets taken?” Josh asks, his eyes drifting to Brecken.

“Don’t look at me! I can’t believe you assholes think I’d want your crap,” Brecken says with a sneer.

“Brecken, stop,” Harper says.

“He won’t stop,” Kayla says, but she’s much calmer now. “He’s deflecting so we won’t think he’s behind it.”

Brecken throws out a hand. “Says the resident burnout from the back seat!”

“Maybe we need to settle down,” Josh says.

Light flickers through his hair, and I shift on my feet to see it better. Headlights. We can’t sit here in the middle of the road with a car approaching. We return to our seats, and I don’t know how Brecken ends up back behind the wheel or why I end up in the front with him, but before I can protest, we’re rolling onward.

The car behind us is a distant presence, a pair of yellow-white eyes blinking now and then through the blowing snow. I feel watched again, so I turn to look over my shoulder and this time, I’m right about the feeling. Kayla is staring at me.

Her pale eyes are rimmed red and her mouth is open just a little. She doesn’t blink. Doesn’t smile or nod. She just stares.