Her head was tilted against the window, a thin drool trail connecting her lower lip to the collar of her oversized flannel. They had driven eight hours straight from a music festival in Tennessee, fleeing bad weather and a bad conversation with an ex who’d shown up uninvited. Mina had insisted on driving the whole way. “You rest,” she’d said. “I’ve got you.”
“Well,” she said softly, “you are.” Loving ladies 2024 01 16 -- 00-33-1226-04 Min
“Always,” Mina said. And she meant it. Her head was tilted against the window, a