New Whitfield slipped past us in a blur. Magnolias and Live Oaks lined the street on either side of us; already, in the very beginning of spring, the air felt heavy and thick. It smelled heavenly, though. The scent of new life blew in through the windows, tangling with the wind in my hair.
Hard to believe I was on such a gruesome errand.
I wished for coffee. In the hustle and revelations of the morning, I had completely neglected to eat or drink anything. My caffeine- deprived body groaned at me as the landscape passed us by. But despite all this, my mind was wide-awake. I was trying to prepare myself for what I was going to tell Noah, and his many possible reactions to it.
I wasn’t looking forward to any of them. I figured he could react with horror, recognizing me for the freak that I was. Or he could laugh, deciding I was crazy. Worst of all, he could be hurt; he probably would be hurt. I hadn’t lied, exactly, but neither had I been completely honest. Instead, I had bailed on him, frightened by the possibility that he might be different, too.