Syria’s POV
The vehicle eventually stopped. Violet and I were both still shaking from what had occurred. The recollection of those close calls earlier continued to replay in my mind.
I was fortunate, very fortunate, I was able to get out of the way of that speeding vehicle before it struck us.
We didn't talk much as we entered a restaurant close by. Inside, the atmosphere was cozy. We placed an order, sat down at a table near the window, and quietly settled in.
Outside, the street came alive. Cars drove by, their headlights shining. People strolled by, laughing and talking. It was a typical scene, but not for me.
My mind was not on the food or the people. It was fixated on the face of the man I had seen earlier in that car.
"Syria, are you hearing me?" Violet's voice snapped me out
