Our car stops, and for the first time, Riley can look at me for more than a second without crying.

“Okay,” I ask, “So where are we driving to anyway?” She opens her mouth to speak but doesn’t get further than a few syllables into an explanation, scrapping it and trying another. “Somewhere,” she mumbles, “Nowhere, really. Lex, c’mon, please don’t be upset with me…I promised—”

“—Not to tell me why I look like a girl,” I reply, soothing the woman’s defenses, “But now I can’t even remember why I asked you to keep a secret. So, can you at least tell me where we are going?”