The drive back from campus was painfully quiet.
Afternoon traffic rolled in lazy waves. Pickup trucks rumbled beside lifted Jeeps, college students crossed intersections with backpacks slung over one shoulder, and cyclists weaved between lanes as though they owned the streets.
A country station played softly through the truck speakers, but Briggs eventually reached over and switched the radio off.
Silence suited the ride better.
Sage sat against the passenger door, her oversized backpack resting on her lap. Inside, Mochi shifted first, followed by Binx curling deeper into the blanket she'd tucked around them.
"They're scared," Briggs said quietly as he kept both hands on the steering wheel.
Sage looked down at the bag and rubbed one finger across the mesh opening.
"They hate loud p
