Maya

One Year Later

“I’ll learn on my own if you stop micro-managing me!” I scold, trying to push Richard’s hands off my handles.

He sits behind me on my new four-wheeler and revs the gas, vaulting us up out of the ravine and out of the mud. I gasp, leaning back into him and my stomach dropping to my feet as I clutch his forearms to steady myself. I laugh.

“Well, if you’d wear the helmet…” he says.

“But I can’t see in the helmet.”

We’re mudding. It’s not like we’re cruising at thirty-five miles an hour out here. I don’t need a helmet for this. And plus, I’m just learning how to use the quad today. He’ll be lucky if I top out at twelve miles an hour.

But if I won’t wear the helmet, then he won’t let me drive it alone until I’ve been given proper…