Chapter 129: Butter Me Up

Contrary to the soft cloudiness that hung over New Hope, Philadelphia looked like it was crying blood. The rain came down so violently that the sky itself seemed furious—pounding against the windshield, the roof, the road. Wipers screeched back and forth, barely keeping up. Every flash of lightning painted the street silver for half a second before plunging us back into blurred darkness. I sat there, fingers clutching my seatbelt, eyes fixed ahead as Dean wrestled with the steering wheel like the car was a wild animal. “You sure we shouldn’t park and wait till it stops a little?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady even as my pulse jumped. “I’ve read enough stories about cars sliding off the road in weather like this.” “But we’re almost there.” His tone was light, almost dismissive. Then he pointed toward the windshield. “My wipers are quite strong, you know?” “Dean,” I said dryly, “I understand if you have dreams of returning to New Hope in a body bag, but I have no such plans mys