" Maybe she’d given her too much. It didn’t matter. She didn’t have time to think about Rachel now. Quinn was dead quiet. Ash-mud smeared thick across the windshield. She bent forward, straining to see through the streaks. Smoke was obliterating everything. Suddenly she made out the lights of the Thunderbird Lodge. With a shaking hand, she palmed her wet ball cap off her head, trying to think this through. It shouldn’t have been like this. Her only weapons were bear spray, ice ax. Ropes. Her strength and endurance. The ketamine was gone now. Shit. She’d gotten this far. There was no going back now, surely? Perspiration dampened her body. She pulled in next to the "

― Loreth Anne White , The Slow Burn of Silence