We're going to be traveling for days.
Days.
With a bunch of kids crammed into a truck. There won't be enough room to stretch out, and there are only so many snacks you can cram down a child before they get full.
I'm already nervous.
And Bun doesn't even have a carseat. Worse, even if we buy her one, there isn't room for it.
I gnaw at my lower lip. If we get into an accident, I'll never forgive myself for not having a car seat for the baby… but the idea of sending one of the kids in the car with Andrew unsupervised makes me want to vomit. Or have a panic attack. Or both.
Andrew's been… nice. Helpful. He hasn't complained once about suddenly being under the thumb of the Lycan King—but then again, why would he? It's putting his life on the line for nothing.
So, while he hasn't done anything outright to harm us, I just can't quite trust him. Not with my kids.
When I look up, Lyre's staring out the window again, her body unnaturally still.
