“They have an insufferable flair for the dramatic?” she asks. It’s followed by a snort in the backseat, and I shoot Ballsack a hard glare in the rearview mirror. He shrugs, and I don’t have time to stop the car and beat the smug look off his face before Verity adds, “I’d tell you to look in the mirror but you’d get so hung up on your reflection that whatever is waiting on us would be long gone.”
