'Slow down, Tristan! What are you saying?'
'There was no pressure, no fluid. It went all the way down to the floor.'
'What did?' Lacey asked.
'The pedal. The brake. It shouldn't have given out like that.' He grabbed Lacey. 'What if… what if it wasn't an accident? What if it only looked like one?'
'And you only look dead,' she replied. 'Sure fooled me.'
'Listen to me, Lacey. Those brakes were in perfect shape. Somebody must have messed with them. Somebody cut the line! You have to help me.'
'But I don't even know how to pump gas,' she said.
'You have to help me reach Ivy!' Tristan started down the road.
'I'd rather work on the brakes,' Lacey called after him. 'Slow down, Tristan. Before you knock off another deer.'
But nothing would stop him. 'Ivy has to believe again,' Tristan said. 'We have to reach her. She has to know that it wasn't an accident. Somebody wanted me-or Ivy-dead!'
