For the first ten minutes, we drove through familiar streets.
Then he took a turn that led away from my mother’s neighborhood.
I frowned.
“Daniel, you missed the turn.”
“I know.”
“Then where are we going?”
He didn’t answer.
I watched the familiar buildings disappear behind us. Soon, the road became narrower, and the houses grew farther apart.
A small suitcase lay on the back seat.
My heart began beating faster.
“Stop the car.”
He kept driving.
“Daniel, I’m serious. Stop.”
“Emily, please.”
That single word frightened me more than an argument would have.
“Why are you acting like this?”
He finally glanced at me.
His eyes were red.
“I need you to trust me for a little longer.”
“Trust you? You’re driving me somewhere without telling me where we’re going!”
I reached for the door handle, intending to get out when he slowed down.
He pulled over beside a deserted stretch of road near a forest.
