The storm got worse as we moved farther from the villa. Snow thickened, wind pushing hard against the car. I stayed careful with the steering, not pushing it.
Nala watched the snow streak past the window, then exhaled. "Got a cigarette?"
"Jacket pocket," I said, shifting slightly.
She leaned in, grabbed the pack, took one, lit it, then slipped the pack back into my pocket. She wasn't really a smoker, but moments like this did it to her.
"You should've told me about Carrie," she said, blowing a thick smoke.
"I know," I replied. "I'm sorry. I thought I could handle it."
"We'll fix this," she said.
"Yeah," I muttered, nodding. "We will."
I kept my eyes on the road as the car moved through the snow.
The storm got worse by the second. Snow slammed into the windshield so hard the wipers could barely keep up. Even on the fastest setting, they weren't doing much more than smearing white across the glass. The road ahead was a blur of gray and shadow.
