Grace's heart pounded as the car rolled forward, its headlights flashing once, then twice.
Her fingers trembled as she clutched her bag. The air felt heavy. Just as she took a step back, a firm hand pulled her from behind.
She gasped and turned sharply
"Grace, it's me,"
Donald's voice cut through the panic.
She blinked fast, relief washing over her as she saw his face.
"Donald… what are you doing here?"
He didn't answer.
The car that had been following her suddenly turned around and sped away into the night.
Donald pulled Grace close and guided her toward his car.
"Get in," he said quietly, his voice low but urgent.
Grace hesitated for a second before obeying.
He got behind the wheel and drove off fast, the tires screeching as they left the street.
Neither of them spoke until they reached her apartment.
Inside, Grace dropped her bag on the couch and walked straight to the bathroom.
