The road out of Bailey Falls had never seemed so long.
Ezra drove as though something was chasing him.
His tyres screamed against the bends, throwing loose gravel into the roadside bushes as he sped past the familiar landmarks. He barely registered the trees blurring beyond his windows or the occasional signpost flashing past. His eyes remained fixed ahead, his jaw clenched so tightly that the muscles beneath his skin twitched.
He had left without telling Penelope where he was going.
He hadn't told Carol either.
There had been no time for explanations, no room for questions. Not when the walls of his carefully constructed life were beginning to close in around him.
Christy was alive.
Grey knew.
Harold and Charity knew.
Mathew knew.
And, worst of all, Dean remembered.
The thought made his grip tighten around the steering wheel.
Dean.
