Chapter Eighteen

KYLE'S P.O.V

More like, who?

The question remained unanswered as she pushed me in the front seat of her car and jerked the car to life. After whirling around in shock after I had asked her who ‘shadow’ is in which she tried to play it off, but it worked on me not because I heard her murmur, “did I say shadow?” to herself but I heard it anyway.

She drove slower than Mathew and for that I was thankful. But at the same time, it elongated my stay inside the confinements of the car in which I didn’t want to be in. I sighed looking down at my hand that I had to—quite literally— pry off from Beaky’s hold since she wouldn’t let go even when she needed both hands to drive.

“Can you please tell me where we’re going?”