Cherie gripped the reins tighter than she needed to, her fingers stiff as the horse moved beneath her. Each step it took felt uneven to her, like she was always one wrong shift away from falling off. The dirt road stretched ahead, mixing into cracked asphalt in patches, dust kicking up around their legs as they moved forward.
It still felt wrong.
The motion. The height. The way the animal beneath her breathed and shifted like it had a mind of its own.
She was not used to it.
Not even close.
Nineteen years of living, and somehow this was what getting around looked like now. Not cars. Not buses. Not anything that made sense to her old life.
A horse.
She let out a quiet breath through her nose.
She used to drive.
Well…sort of.
Her mind pulled her back before she could stop it.
That night.
