I drove her through the dark roads, the city lights shrinking behind us. The place was quiet, except for the hum of the engine and the occasional beating of my heart. She sat beside me, silent, fingers gripping her bag like it was a lifeline. I didn’t push her to speak.

I already took her out of her home after I said she couldn't go anywhere. She was trusting me enough to take her somewhere safe, where she would not hurt anyone else, and now I was taking her somewhere I could think ...