Chapter 53
The laundry truck bumped along the winding roads outside the prison, swallowed by the darkness of the early morning hours. The headlights cut a path through the mist, but inside the truck, the air was razor-thin. Sasha hadn’t moved since she got in. She sat slouched in the passenger seat, her injured shoulder wrapped hastily, blood still damp on the fabric. Her eyes stared forward, fixed on nothing. Her fists were clenched in her lap, her knuckles white. Quinn didn’t dare speak. He could feel it—something burning inside her, something deadly. This wasn’t just anger. It was betrayal. Fury. Grief. She was boiling in silence, and the only sound between them was the hum of the road. Quinn gripped the wheel tighter. She hadn’t looked at him. Not once. Not when they escaped. Not when they p
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