was racing against the seconds, just at the moment I thought, If only a miracle would happen.
But miracles don’t come at midnight in empty parking lots.
The engine wouldn’t start. I turned the key again. Click. Nothing. My hands were shaking so hard I could barely grip the wheel. He was coming. I had seen him in the rearview mirror—not running, just walking. Calm. Like he had all the time in the world.
I slammed my fist against the dashboard and tried one more time. Still nothing. I could hear my breath now. Fast. Ragged. Like it belonged to someone else.
I thought of calling someone, but my phone was dead. Of course it was.
The last light in the lot flickered once and went out. Now the only light was the moon, and even that felt cold.
Footsteps. Not rushing. Just getting closer.
I grabbed my keys and bolted from the car. I didn’t think. I just ran. I didn’t even know where—past the fence, over the gravel, cutting my palms as I fell, scrambling back up like an animal.
Then I heard tires. A sound I didn’t trust, but I turned toward it anyway. Headlights. A truck. It stopped.
The door opened. A woman stepped out.
“You alright?” she asked, brow furrowed.
I opened my mouth, but no sound came. She looked past me and saw him. That was enough.
“Get in,” she said.
I climbed in without thinking.
“Friend of yours?” she asked.
“No.”
“Didn’t think so.”
We were silent for a while. I was still trying to remember how to breathe.
“Where you headed?” she finally asked.
“I don’t know.”
“You running from him?”
I nodded.
“Good. Never trust a man who walks like that.”
I glanced at her. “Why’d you stop?”
“Because no one else was going to.” She paused. “And you looked like hell.”
I laughed once. Just air, no joy. But it helped.
“Thanks,” I said.
The truck kept moving. The night stayed dark. But for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel alone. And the fact that she was a police officer made it easier for me to relax. All I wanted now was to get home safe.