(Damon)
Three minutes had passed. Then five.
I checked the time again as I drummed my fingers against the steering wheel as I kept my eyes fixed on the entrance of the store. The street was quiet, the overhead lights buzzing faintly. There was still no sign of them.
I narrowed my eyes, my suspicion growing by the minute.
Ten minutes.
No one needed to grab some tampons and some chocolates.
I stepped out the car, determined to find out what the girls were up to. For all I know, they could be in danger. I walked into the store and I was welcomed with a bell ring as soon as I stepped in.
A young man who I guessed to be in his early twenties with a nose ring stood behind the counter, scrolling on his phone like the world wasn’t about to end. He looked like he would rather be anywhere but
