The car is too quiet. The radio is off. I hate my dad’s incessant questions but I’ll give anything to have him in the car asking me stuff I don’t want to talk about than sit in this silence with my stepbrother. I reach for the radio and he cuts me a look that has me retracting my hand.
My elbow juts out the window, my head pokes out and the morning air whips through my hair. The car slows as he is about to make a turn.
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