The gravel bit into their palms and knees. The city lights blurred into smeared coins in the distance. For a heartbeat after he slammed them out of the road, there was only the two of them — ragged breaths, the taste of smoke and dust, the shudder of a truck’s engine dying in the street.

She clung to him like she might disappear if she let go. Her shoulders heaved. The sound she made wasn’t a cry anymore; it was an excavation — years and months and small deaths torn out of her chest and flung into the night. Eshaan’s heartbeat was a steady drum against her temple. His arms tightened until she felt held and owned at once, as if being held could stitch back the places that had been ripped.