Four hours had passed since our journey began, and I knew we had arrived in New Hampshire because E.Y.E, our trusty navigation system, had announced it. The highway was starting to proclaim its relevance again, gradually replacing the silent mountain roads that we had been traversing for the past few hours.
I glanced in the rearview mirror to check on Greg, who had been slumped in his seat for most of the journey. He had briefly woken up when we stopped for gas, but even then, his brain seemed to be on autopilot, and his consciousness was barely present.
"How close are we?" I asked E.Y.E, the disembodied voice responding promptly, "Twelve miles, thirty minutes."
"Alright, perfect," I replied, relieved that our destination was within reach. I stole another glance at the mirror, startled by Greg's sudden awakening.
