“My car has tinted windows, if it’s light sensitivity that hurts her, your car is the worst.”

Winnie drives a tiny convertible. There is no room to lie down and no hiding from the blinding sun.

“No,” I croak, but Grayson tightens his grip on me.

“Don’t argue, Jess,” he whispers before directing his words to Winnie. “Take Melia’s seat out.” A few seconds pass, and then his voice changes. “Please, Winnie.”

She makes a noise under her breath, but she must agree because a moment later, he settles me in a car. Not sure which one. The door closes, and I curl up on the backseat, no longer caring whose car I’m in, just that I’m lying down.

I can hear my sister outside. “Seriously, she’s going to hate this when she’s better.”

“I have no doubt of that. Can you drive Melia to Stella’s?”

“Stella’s?”

“Yeah, I’ll take Jess back home and stay with her for a bit.”

“Gray that’s not . . .”

“Daddy, can I come with you?” the little girl asks.

“Daddy is going to make sure his friend is okay and doesn’t need to go to the hospital,” he explains.

Jesus. This is not okay. I will be fine, I just need to sleep.

“Is she going to need surgery?”

“No, sweet girl, I just want to make sure she isn’t in pain.”

“So, you’ll be there to watch her and make sure?”

“Grayson,” Winnie cuts in again, “this is really not necessary.”

The little girl’s voice is musical as she says, “It’s okay, Winnie. My daddy is a fireman and he saves people. He can help.”

Winnie laughs. “Yes, I guess he does.”

“Do you know his friend?”

“I sure do,” Winnie says. “She’s my sister.”

“I wish I had a sister!”

Someone clears their throat. “You be good for Winnie and Auntie Stella.”

“I will, Daddy. Will I get to play with Auntie?”

“You sure will.”

“Jess is going to be so pissed at us,” Winnie says.

“I’m sure she’ll let me know.”

I count, trying not to focus on their conversation because the pain is throbbing again. I keep the jacket that smells like Grayson over my head, keeping myself in total darkness.

When he gets in, I struggle to say it loud enough so he can hear but not loud enough that it will make the headache worse. “Medicine.”

Grayson is out of the car a moment later. Thankfully he doesn’t close the door, but I hear him yell for Winnie.

After another eighty-three seconds, he returns. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I have water and the pill Winnie got from your purse. Can you sit up to take it?”