The road stretched out like a dark ribbon, wet and gleaming under the streetlights. My hands were tight around the wheel, my knuckles bruised. Kelvin’s blood still clung to my skin, a reminder of how close I came to killing him.

The night air was cold through the half-open window. It carried the smell of rain, metal, and gasoline and I needed that. Something real. Something that wasn’t soaked in lies.

I should’ve felt lighter. I wasn’t. Every mile only pulled me deeper into my head. ...