At no point had Fred thought of his son. At no point had he thought of me. All he ever thought about was himself.

As I hurried behind him, practically running through the corridors, sanity returned. I stopped dead, forcing him to do the same.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I… don’t trust you.” My voice came out thin. Every inch of me showed how confused I was.

It seemed absurd to stop there, in the middle of our ridiculous escape, just to make it clear I didn’t trust him. Still, it felt ...