Feeling the pressure in my bladder, I slowly open my eyes, squinting against the blinding light filtering through the windshield. I blink several times, trying to adjust. The rain has stopped, but the cold lingers in the air, biting at my skin. Glancing at the dashboard, I notice it’s 4:52 a.m. The clouds still hang low, dark and heavy from the earlier rainfall, but the world feels eerily still.
Careful not to disturb him, I sit up slowly. He’s still asleep, one arm draped lazily over his eyes as if shielding himself from the world. For a moment, I watch him, feeling a pang of guilt for slipping away so silently, knowing he had good intentions. But I shake it off. I need to get back.
I gently push open the car door, every creak sounding louder than it should. I gather my clothes, making
