ISABELLA'S POV
(A few hours before Izzy's line went dead)
The sound of the truck engine was the only thing keeping me focused as I drove down the empty road. The night felt lonely, with fog weaving through the trees and headlights making small clear paths in the darkness. My hands were tightly gripping the wheel, but I liked feeling in control.
The rumble under me and the steady bumps of the tires on the rough road were things I could rely on.
This was the third rescue run this month. I wasn't supposed to do more than two—even that was pushing it—but try telling that to the part of me that couldn't look away when women like them were being sold, traded, or left to die.
They deserved freedom more than I deserved rest. And if I had to burn myself out doing it... Well, hell,
