“Ungh,” I groaned. I hadn’t meant to make any sound. I knew that would make it worse for him. But so much was involuntary with this body. Tears sprang up in my eyes, and I coughed to hide a sob. My head rang, vibrated in aftershock.

“Wanda? Mel? I’m sorry!”

His arms wrapped around us, pulled us into his chest.

“’S okay,” I whimpered. “We’re okay. Did you get it all?”

His hand touched my chin, turned my head.

“Ahh,” he gasped, sickened. “I took half your face off. I’m so sorry.”

“No, that’s good. That’s good. Let’s go.”

“Right.” His voice was still weak, but he leaned me back into my seat, settling me carefully, and then the car rumbled beneath us.

Ice-cold air blew in my face, shocking me, stinging my raw cheek. I’d forgotten what air-conditioning felt like.

I opened my eyes. We were driving down a smooth wash—smoother than it should have been, carefully altered to be this way. It snaked away from us, coiling around the brush. I couldn’t see very far ahead.

I pulled the visor down and flipped open the mirror. In the shadowy moonlight, my face was black and white. Black all across the right side, oozing down my chin, dripping across my neck, and seeping into the collar of my new, clean shirt.

My stomach heaved.

“Good job,” I whispered.

“How much pain are you in?”

“Not much,” I lied. “Anyway, it won’t hurt much longer. How far are we from Tucson?”

Just then, we reached pavement. Funny how the sight of it made my heart race in panic. Jared stopped, keeping the car hidden in the brush. He got out and removed the tarps and chains from the bumper, putting them in the trunk. He got back in and eased the car forward, checking carefully to make sure the highway was empty. He reached for the headlights.

“Wait,” I whispered. I couldn’t speak louder. I felt so exposed here. “Let me drive.”

He looked at me.

“It can’t look like I walked to the hospital like this. Too many questions. I have to drive. You hide in the back and tell me where to go. Is there something you can hide under?”

“Okay,” he said slowly. He put the car into reverse and pulled it back into the deeper brush. “Okay. I’ll hide. But if you take us somewhere I don’t tell you to go…”

Oh! Melanie was stung by his doubt, as was I.

My voice was flat. “Shoot me.”

He didn’t answer. He got out, leaving the engine running. I slid across the cup holders into his seat. I heard the trunk slam.

Jared climbed into the backseat, a thick plaid blanket under his arm.

“Turn right at the road,” he said.