As her boyfriend’s car barreled and swerved up the golden mountain, Lily glared out her passenger window.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” he asked.
It seemed as though they were driving on clouds. The altitude pressure squeezed her inner ears.
This shouldn’t be happening, repeated over and over in her head as she tried to pop them. This is the last trip, she vowed.
The car screeched.
Her boyfriend screamed.
A skunk.
Slamming.
Plummeting.
Wind whistling.
This shouldn’t be happening, this shouldn’t be—
