Cali Carter Alexis Monroe Jessa Rhodes [ No Ads ]

The man’s eyes flickered. Something moved behind them—not unkindness, but caution. “That place ain’t been used in twenty years.”

“The truth,” he said. “And your names.”

Cali smiled, a rare, slow crack in her usual composure. “We’re almost there. The map says the festival is twenty miles past the next town. ‘Pioneer Springs.’ Sounds charming.” cali carter alexis monroe jessa rhodes

“Film festival,” Cali said, handing over a credit card for the gas. “Out at the old Starview Drive-in.”

The man just grunted. He slid a pack of peanut butter crackers across the counter. “On the house. And listen—if you see a man in a long coat on the road, don’t stop. No matter what he’s holding.” The man’s eyes flickered

“I was lying. I wanted to save money for shoes.”

Cali Carter, her hands steady on the wheel at ten and two, glanced in the rearview mirror. Even with mascara smudged under her eyes and her hair pulled into a messy knot, Alexis looked like she’d just stepped out of a magazine. That was her gift—effortless, almost accidental glamour. Jessa, by contrast, was all sharp angles and sharper wit, her red lips curved in a permanent smirk. Cali knew she herself was the anchor: taller, quieter, the one who read the fine print and made sure they actually had a hotel reservation. “And your names

“We should have flown,” Alexis moaned, dropping her head against the window. “Why did we agree to drive?”