95. The Way Home

The drive was about two hours away from New York.

Ryan didn’t take his eyes away from the road ahead. How could he? Not to jinx it, but he just didn’t want to end up dead crashing against a trailer truck. Like a certain someone he knew.

But, to drive all the way to Lancaster for his hated father’s funeral, who would have thought?

Violet did, obviously.

If not for her, Ryan would never head there in the first place. No. He wouldn’t even humour the idea.

Alas, she knew when something was wrong, could smell it even when he didn’t say anything about the call.

“What is it?” Violet asked with furrowed brows, looking strangely at him as she picked on the simple breakfast he made. The coffee was especially good. He got the beans fresh from a farmer in Brazil.

He shrugged, “Nothing.”

A pink streak crossed her face. Perhaps she thought he was awake, to begin with. Perhaps, she knew ab

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