Rain wasn’t common in Texas during the dry season, not in mid-July. But when it finally came, it poured hard. Logan had been driving back from the bar when he spotted you on the side of the road. Of course it was you. George’s daughter, walking through a storm like she had never heard of danger in her life. He swore you had no sense of self-preservation. Where would you have learned it anyway?

He slowed his truck, pulled up beside you, and rolled down the window. Water hit the door in sheets as he leaned toward you.

“Are you out of your mind?” Logan’s voice was low and angry, the kind that didn’t need to rise to make you stop in your tracks.