Page 1 of All Yours

Chapter One

Sloane

The phone rang through the Nissan speakers for the third time in an hour. I used the button on the steering wheel to send it to voicemail and concentrated on keeping up with the car in front of me.

“Why are you ignoring your editor again?” Lauren asked, pressing pause on our audiobook that had resumed in the call's wake.

I sighed and hesitated on admitting it was for the most clichéd reason ever. It was so stupid.

“Can we just listen to the book? We won’t get a chance on the way back.”

“Eden won’t care.” Lauren dismissed my suggestion. “Are you that determined to not talk about your writer’s block?”

I’d tightened my grip on the steering wheel until my fingers turned numb. “Hush. Do not speak its name out loud.” I loosened my hold and wiggled the dead appendages.

Lauren let out a giggle. “You’re serious right now?”

“You think it’s silly, but things have more power once you name them.”

“Or you can create a plan to combat it once you know what’s going on?”

“The story doesn’t make any sense, and that’s a problem,” I said. Lauren wasn’t a writer; she didn’t understand.

The lines and trees on the side of the interstate whipped by. It amazed me that even a couple of hours southeast, the leaves had not started the autumn transformation yet. It’d stayed hotter for longer this year, delaying colors. I’d need to get gas soon. I tapped the button. “Call Eden.”

Eden’s voice filled the car through the speakers. “What up, road trip compadres?”

“Let’s stop at the next major exit and find a gas station,” I said.

“Good. I could use some snacks.”

“Didn’t you bring some with you?” Lauren asked.

“Don’t judge me,” Eden quipped.

“No judgment here,” I said. “Snacks sound great. See ya at the exit.”

“10-4 that and we’re east bound and down,” Eden said.

“What?” I asked. “We’re headed south.”

“It’s from an old show. You don’t remember that?”

“Can’t say I do.”

“Well, never mind then.” The phone disconnected.

“Love the girl, but she can be weird. Do you ever wonder what her life was like before we met her?”

Lauren shifted in her seat. “She’s just nervous. I’d be uneasy too if I’d kept a friend’s car for six months. What was she driving? Didn’t Eden have one of her own?”

“We didn’t really discuss it,” I said. Digging into someone’s past left me open for reciprocal inquiry. “This person was using another car but needs hers back now.”

“You still won’t ask her questions,” Lauren said.

“I don’t ask what I don’t want to answer.”

“Yeah, I get it. But you two are spending so much time together lately.”

---