(Music recommendation: Hotel Sayre by Craig Armstrong, Lana Del Rey.)
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"Laila, faster!" Viola shouted, and Laila's foot pressed harder against the pedal, the car lurching forward, weaving between the dark trees crowding the narrow road.
"We're almost to the coast, Vee, just hold on!" Laila called back, her own voice shaking despite the steadiness she tried to force into it. She'd never watched anyone close to her die, had never experienced horror quite like this, and she poured everything she had left into driving, as though speed alone could outrun what was happening in the back seat.
Viola looked down at Zoe's face, at the way her eyelids kept fluttering, fighting to stay open, and something clawed its way up Viola's throat.
