The drive felt different this time.
Not calm.
Not controlled.
Tense.
Fast.
Like we were ahead of something—or trying to be.
I sat in the back, my bag clutched tightly in my lap, eyes flicking between the window and the front seat where Max sat beside the driver.
He hadn’t said much since we left.
Just short instructions.
Directions.
Clear.
Precise.
Like everything else had been pushed aside.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Away from the main routes.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s enough.”
I let out a breath, leaning back slightly.
Everything with him was always like that.
Enough.
Controlled.
Measured.
But right now—
It didn’t feel like enough.
I looked out the window again.
The roads were quieter now.
Less traffic.
Less movement.
That should have felt safer.
It
