Some lingered by their cars, talking. “Where’d I park the mustang again?” Ryan rubbed his eyes with his free hand, frowning briefly. “Right over there.” Ally pointed toward the left corner of the lot. “Hey, are you all right?” “Seeing silver lights.” The satisfaction she’d heard in his voice while inside was still there, tempered by his confession. “I’ll drive.” She pressed her lips into a thin line, resisting any temptation to say more. Sometimes her Aunt Elsa saw silver lights before she got a migraine – a precursor to the impending pain. “You don’t have to do that. I’m not in pain, and you don’t have a license.” “Not a license,” she said as they approached the mustang. “A permit.” “Like a learner’s permit?” She nodded. “I went to the MVA this week and got one. Now I can drive legally with you in the car with me.” She’d had one years ago, when her father had started to teach her how to drive. It had expired later, after her mother had had to sell the car, and she’d never bothered to get another one – until now.
