Claire forgot how to breathe.

She stood perfectly still, heart pounding against her ribs so hard it hurt.

After a long pause, Logan said, much quieter now, “…yeah.

Just make sure she drives tonight.”

Tonight.

The word cut through the panic and organized it.

Tonight Megan was hosting their mother’s birthday dinner.

Claire had promised to bring dessert.

Claire had also promised to drive because Megan hated night traffic and their mother, Judith, always had wine at birthdays, no matter how small the celebration.

Logan knew all of that.

He knew their habits.

He knew the route from Judith’s apartment to Megan’s neighborhood.

He knew where the steep turn by the creek tended to slick over after rain.

He had not cut Claire’s brakes for a random future chance.

He had chosen a schedule.

She got outside without slamming the door and kept walking until she was two houses down.

Only then did she pull out her phone, though her hands were shaking so hard she almost dropped it.

She did not call Logan.

She did not text him.

She searched for a towing company and hit the first number that answered.

“Dispatch, what’s your location?” a man asked.

“I need a tow,” Claire said.

Her own voice sounded strange to her, flattened by effort.

“Quiet pickup.

No knocking.

Just take the car.”

He asked where it should be delivered.