Graeme and August had taken the Jeep without Greta's permission. The way Graeme did it—with a mischievous glint in his eye, hushing August and sneaking out with the key—made August giggle despite the circumstances and the news she had just heard.
As they were driving through the dark woods, August looked out the window numbly, watching the blur of trunks and underbrush pass by.
"So Sage…" Graeme started, leading the way into a conversation, but August didn't respond to it.
The window was rolled down, the wind gliding across her face and through her hair, and she closed her eyes to feel it licking, cooling, purifying her. Out here it was easy to just believe the rest of the world didn't exist anyway, much less people who had known her and now no longer did. Or other alyko who were powerful enough to make that happen.
