The rain had been coming down for hours. Sheets of it slapping the windshield, crawling sideways across the mirrors like the whole world was sliding apart. Ben’s hands were locked on the wheel, shoulders tight, eyes burning from the wipers' rhythm. His wife, Emily, sat curled in the passenger seat with her legs drawn up under her sweater, head resting on the window, half-asleep. “You good?” he asked. She nodded. “Just tir...