When the Signal Dies, Love Is Logistics—and Every Choice Has a Cost

at me. “Isn’t that—”

“Safer than freezing,” I said. “And safer than emptying your tank.”

He nodded, swallowing.

As I walked back to my SUV, the wind shoved me hard.

Barnaby watched me through the glass.

When I climbed in, my fingers stiff, Barnaby leaned his head against my arm like he was checking me for damage.

“You saw that, huh?” I murmured.

His tail continue reading …