I stared at my hands on the wheel. I always drove with two hands. Ten and two. It was the safest way to drive, and I always did what was safest. Until now. Until now, when the most dangerous thing I could do was not hold on to her. I peeled my right hand from the wheel, using my left to steer as I took her hand in mine. Her fingers were cold, so I squeezed them tight.
my crying can provide a country with water for a year
