A moment later, the pursuing vehicle disappeared behind a row of concrete pillars.
But Matthew did not relax.
“Keep moving,” he ordered.
Elena pressed both hands against her mouth, struggling to control her breathing.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to involve you in this.”
Matthew looked at her.
“You didn’t involve me. You asked for help.”
“People like you don’t help people like me without wanting something.”
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he answered, “Perhaps you’ve met the wrong people.”
The words should have comforted her. Instead, they made her cry.
She had spent three years learning how to swallow her fear, hide her anger, and smile whenever Isabel reminded her that she owed the family everything.
Tonight, she had finally run out of strength.
Matthew handed her a clean handkerchief.
“Cry if you need to. But don’t apologize for surviving.”
Elena took it with trembling fingers.
