Maggie was feisty yet playful—especially around her brothers. Quinn couldn’t count how many practical jokes they’d played on them. Maggie had a knack for thinking up crazy but harmless ways to repay them for being too protective or just downright irritating.

In junior high, Quinn and Maggie had shared the view from the outside of the popular crowd. Then high school came, and Maggie blossomed, quickly transforming from the redheaded pixie she was to a beautiful young woman. Her long hair turned into a much deeper red, and she suddenly had legs that Quinn would die for. Her transformation from tomboy to beauty queen landed her in a different crowd, but Maggie was loyal. She made it known that Quinn was her best friend and that would never change. So Quinn was in, too, and treated with a certain respect, though she never quite felt welcomed by the popular girls.

She and Maggie had headed off in different directions after that, attending different colleges. Quinn had tried to keep in contact, but when Ethan came along, he monopolized her time—and thoughts—to the point that the guilt of letting their friendship wane finally propelled it into total obscurity.

And Maggie stopped making an effort too. But Quinn missed her. She missed having a friend she could be open with, confide in.

She looked at her phone peeking out from her bag.

Other than from Gina, her screen remained ominously empty of messages or missed calls. One would think that as the corporate director of sales and marketing for a high-end resort, Quinn would have made hundreds of contacts. And she had. Just none close enough to call friends—at least not ones she had contact with in real life, as opposed to just on social media. Her work required a lot of travel, but when she had time off, it was usually burned up planning her schedule, working out, and spending time with Ethan. There wasn’t really time for anyone else.

She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. It wasn’t the time for indulging in a self-pity party. She winced when a Jeep went around to pass her, top down and music blaring. The driver was a thin reed of a girl, her long blonde hair whipping in the wind as her head bobbed to a beat that reverberated through the Jetta.

Carefree.

A few years ago, when it was time to buy a new-to-her car, Quinn wanted a Jeep, a longing that had started in high school but one she’d never realized. Ethan had researched all the industry reports and recommendations, and she had eventually settled on a Honda sedan, the car most known for dependability and longevity.

Now Quinn watched the Jeep ahead of her and felt envious for a brief second.