The Jeep skidded on the uneven half-pavement, half-dirt road, its rear end sliding around to the left before he corrected and it came to a stop less than a foot from the ditch. He barely noticed. He rounded on Molly, the red haze back, this time fueled by fury. “That’s not possible.” He felt his lips curl back from his teeth in a snarl, the implications of what she’d just told him crowding into his brain, combining to form a ferocious buzz that drowned out whatever she was saying to him now. The roof and sides of the vehicle bent toward him, squeezing. Have to get out. Need air. He shoved out of the car and staggered a few feet down the road, oblivious to the rain that had become a downpour. “Brady!” Molly’s voice was faint behind him. He halted, pressing his hands to the top of his head as if that could stop the tormenting buzz, like a swarm of hornets. He heard splashes—Molly, running through puddles.
