Anabelle hesitated for a second; then she punched a button in the driver’s door and the locks thunked open. I got out, and Finn threw himself into my arms, gun still aimed at the dirt, new tall, firm body pressed against me as his borrowed heart thumped against my chest.

“Are you okay?” he whispered into my ear, and I nodded against his shirt.

“You?”

“Winded.” He stepped back far enough that I could see moonlight shine in his bright green eyes. Then he kissed me.

“Get in the car!” Melanie snapped, and I pulled away enough to see her head sticking out of the rear driver’s side window.

Finn pushed me toward the front seat, and while I climbed in, he sat next to Melanie, laying his gun across the rear floorboard while she stared at his new face. “We’re in. Go!” he shouted, and Anabelle stomped on the gas again. The tires spun beneath us and gravel sprayed the ground. Finally rubber found purchase on what was left of the road, and our stolen car shot off into the dark, leaving the lights of New Temperance behind.

“Okay, Finn and I have a lot to tell you both,” I said, twisting to stand on my knees in the front seat, facing backward. “And we have more friends for you to meet. But first, say goodbye to everything you’ve ever known.” I pointed out the rear windshield.

Mellie turned to look, and Anabelle stared into the rearview mirror.

It took great effort for me to turn away from the glass. Away from the ruin of my own past. But as Finn’s hand settled over mine on the cracked upholstery of the seat back between us, I understood that my future lay ahead, as uncertain—and possibly as shrouded in darkness—as the black expanse of badlands spread out before us.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thanks to my amazing agent, Merrilee Heifetz, who makes things happen.

Thanks to my new editor, Wendy Loggia at Delacorte Press, who championed this book all the way into print.

Thanks, as always, to my critique partner, Rinda Elliott, who saw several versions of the beginning of this book, only a few passages of which made it into the final text. Your input is invaluable.

Many thanks to the awesome Rachel Clarke for a criticial early read.

A big thank-you to Jennifer Lynn Barnes, for Panera writing days, company, and advice. There is no scene that cannot be conquered with a little caffeine and a bowl of soup.

And finally, thanks to everyone at Random House who has worked on The Stars Never Rise. Your dedication and experience are greatly appreciated.

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