Rowan seemed like a good driver—not that Scarlett knew what would constitute a bad driver. She had been taught the basics, but that was years ago, and the most important lessons had been not to press the gas too hard and not to get whiplash from slamming the breaks.
It was a smooth ride, with barely any bumps—though that might’ve had more to do with the immaculate capital roads than anything else.
The capital whipped by them in a blur of colors as Rowan took them further away from the inner sectors and started to drive through the outer ones.
Now Scarlett was really curious about where they were going—but that wasn’t what they needed to talk about first.
“You know exactly what I want to discuss,” she reminded him. It hadn’t been that long ago.
“Before we go into all of—what happened, I wanted to tell you that we’re already searching for the shifter who attacked you.”
“Oh,” Scarlett stammered. “Thank you. How long do you think it’ll take? Months?”
