I switch between crying and sucking down air as my phone buzzes in my pocket with more missed calls. I can’t stand the feel of it touching me. It’s as unwanted as Troy’s actual physical touch. Even from such a distance, he can still force his way on me. Jerking the phone from my pocket, I drop it down into the cupholder where it continues to softly buzz. The sound is muted by the truck’s engine and the quiet hum of the radio. “When you’re ready,” Ilmari says, still not looking my way.
