I got into the car.
I didn't forget to wear the hoodie—pulled the hood up, tucked my hair inside, made myself small in the passenger seat. Anonymous. Unrecognizable. Just a shape in the corner.
Everything was kind of okay.
But it was cold. And the AC was on.
Full blast. Arctic. Like he wanted to freeze me out of existence.
I hugged my arms across my chest, fingers digging into the fabric of the hoodie. My breath fogged faintly in the air. I was going to freeze to death before I even reached the gate.
I turned my head. Looked through the window. Pretended I loved the view.
The view was nothing.
Empty fields. Bare trees. The mansion shrinking behind us, a dark tooth against grey sky. No birds. No cars. No life.
Just emptiness. And the hum of the engine. And the cold.
Pretend you love it. Pretend you chose this.
I pressed my forehead against the glass.
Then—
You know when someone is staring at you. You just know.
