I just need distance.
Distance from the office. From the men waiting there. From everything I’ve been pretending is manageable.
That’s enough for now.
He’s going to find out. Maybe he already has. A call. A message. Someone stepping into his office, interrupting whatever meeting he’s in.
“She left.” That’s all it takes.
There will be consequences. There are always consequences.
When I decide to have you, I will.
Not a threat. A timeline.
I pick up my pace.
Three blocks. My lungs start to burn. My feet protest with every step in these heels, but I keep going.
I’m actually going to?—
The black SUV at the corner stops that thought cold.
It doesn’t belong. It’s too clean. Too still. The engine’s running. Someone’s inside. Watching.
I keep moving. Don’t react. Turn the corner. Faster now. My heel catches on a crack. I stumble, recover, keep going.
Another SUV halfway down the block. Different driver. Same attention.
Right.Of course.
I’m not out.
I was never out.
The police station is two blocks away. I can see it if I look for it—the faded blue, the cars out front. Structure. Authority. The illusion of safety.
I slow at the crosswalk. My hand hovers near my phone.
If I make it, then what?
Walk in and say what, exactly?
That my boss threatened me—with nothing to prove it? That I heard something I was never supposed to hear, and stayed anyway?
I’d have to explain why I’m still here. Why I kept working. Why I played along.
That part doesn’t sound good out loud. None of it does. And even if they believed me—how long before he knows?
I don’t need to guess what happens after that.
The light changes. People move around me, crossing, talking, living like nothing is wrong.
I stay where I am. Green turns to yellow turns to red.
Still not moving.Why am I not moving?
A hand closes around my elbow.
