The tires squealed on the flooded gravel.
Outside, the storm seemed alive.
A searing pain shot through Eleanor so violently that a white light flashed from the edge of her field of vision.
She grabbed his sleeve.
He recoiled abruptly, as if disgusted by her touch.
“Please,” she said. “Call 911.”
Garrett opened his door for him.
He went out into the rain, walked around the hood and suddenly opened his door.
The cold water slapped his face.
“No,” she sobbed, clutching her seatbelt. “Garrett, don’t do this.”
His hands were trembling when he hit the loop.
For half a second, she thought that meant he was going to stop.
He then grabbed her by the arms and dragged her outside.
Her bare feet touched the water and the stone.
