She held it up.
One percent battery.
Then it died in her hand.
“Great,” Ryan muttered.
She leaned forward suddenly. “Don’t take me somewhere weird.”
He met her eyes in the mirror.
“Miss, I have a daughter. I have a day job starting in less than two hours. I have no interest in making my life worse.”
Something in his voice must have reached her, because she sank back into the seat and went quiet.
Ryan pulled away from the curb.
For nearly an hour, he drove slowly through the city while asking small, careful questions. Did she remember a gate? A road? A beach club? A church nearby? A diner? A statue? Anything?
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