Gage shot Veda amused eyes, the palm of his hand barely touching the steering wheel as he navigated the narrow streets of Shadow Rock. It was approaching the middle of the night, so the streets were quiet; nothing but the sound of crashing waves filled the air. Leaning out of the open window of his Rolls-Royce Phantom Drophead Coupe, Veda watched the asphalt roll by. He’d painted the car a matte black, so the exterior blended with the street so well it almost disappeared, making her feel like she was flying. She wished she could fly. The moment she made that wish, however, she realized how useless it was. She’d already tried flying away—from Shadow Rock, from her past, from the constant ache in her gut. It wasn’t until she’d graduated medical school that it finally hit her. She couldn’t fly away from herself. Her eyes fluttered shut. “That was so amazing,” Coco beamed. Veda knew she was leaning in from the backseat without even having to look.
