The sun dipped low over the Mojave Desert, stretching shadows across the cracked asphalt as a battered convertible roared down the empty highway. Sonny sat behind the wheel, his knuckles tight on the steering wheel, while Carolyn cradled a half-empty beer can, her gaze fixed on the horizon.

“Turn this shit off.” She snapped, her voice cutting through the twangy chords of a Beatles song crackling on the radio.