70. 73. 76. 79. 86. 90. The numbers blurred. The road was a smear of light. his dad,silent. drove faster and faster. vaemond, sat still. There was nothing to say. At 130, the car snapped into metal. A pole took the hit. Electricity sparked. Flames bloomed. The car turned over like it had given up. The child slipped out through a window cracked open by the crash. the glass cut open his hands. Smoke clawed back at his eyes. He just sat there made himself comfortable on the highway, staring They...