I surreptitiously fish my phone from my purse and type a quick text to my brother. Deadman’s Curve. Brogan’s red Jetta. Come get me. SOS. Brogan swings around to look at me right as I tuck my phone away. I fold my arms and promise myself Nic is on his way. I’ll sit here and talk to Brogan, and soon enough Nic will be here and everything will be fine.
