**Coastal Highway — Day One**
Waves smashed against rock cliffs to their right. Pines blurred past on the left. The Maroni car moved like a ghost—no convoy, no rear surveillance, no tinted windows.
Just Albert and Emerie. Front seats. Fifteen miles of silence.
Albert spoke first. “Are you cold?"
“No."
“You haven't touched your coffee."
“I don't trust anything I didn't pour myself."
He nodded, eyes on the road.
She watched him closely. His jaw clenched with restraint. His hands—steady on the wheel—shook ever so slightly when they passed through tunnels.
Not fear.
Guilt.
She broke the silence. “Why this?"
“I told you. You need space."
“You don't believe in space. You believe in leverage."
“Maybe I'm trying something new."
“You mean obedience?"
“If that's what you need."
She
