(Aspen’s POV)
Pippa picked me up just after nine this morning.
When I slid into the passenger seat, she was smiling like she had something planned and didn’t want to give it away yet.
“You ready?” she asked.
“For volunteering?” I teased. “Always.”
She pulled back onto the road, one hand on the wheel, the other tapping lightly against the door. “I signed us up to help sort donations at a community center. Nothing fancy. Just… good time with some really good people.”
“I like good,” I said.
We drove for a few minutes in easy silence.
Pippa glanced over. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Just thinking.”
She smiled. “You do that a lot.”
“I’ve had practice.”
She laughed, then slowed at a light. The radio played something soft and forgettable. For a moment, everything felt normal.
Then it
