Then Ryan lowered the syringe.
“You’re sleepwalking,” he said. “You need help.”
He shoved past me hard enough to bruise my shoulder and disappeared.
My legs gave out. I collapsed beside Sophie’s bed.
Her eyes fluttered open.
“Mrs. Hayes?” she rasped. “I’m so sorry. The van… I couldn’t control it.”
I took her hand.
“Sophie, listen to me. Right before the crash, what happened?”
She trembled.
“A black pickup followed us down the mountain road. It hit our bumper twice. Then a man pulled up beside me. He had a scar on his chin. He pointed at the back tire like something was wrong. I panicked. I hit the brakes, and the tire blew. The wheel jerked out of my hands.”
A man with a scar.
Travis.
I kissed her forehead.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. You gave me what I needed.”
On my way home, my phone buzzed.
