June let out a sharp, breathless whimper that ended in a soft, wet cough against my shoulder.

“The road construction on Route 83 is going to add fifteen minutes,” Ethan said, glancing at the glowing digital clock on the dashboard.

“Alan literally told the entire division on Tuesday that anyone who misses this launch review is off the project.”

“Keep your eyes on the lane,” I said, leaning over June to readjust her thick fleece blanket.

The winter rain grew heavier, pounding the roof of the station wagon in steady, heavy bursts that drowned out the radio static.

Ethan slowed as we neared the bright commercial intersection on Main Street, where the overhead traffic light swung from amber to solid red.