The Cost of Trust. Content Warning. AI-Generated.
The rain battered the cracked windshield of the old pickup truck as it rattled down the empty highway. Inside, Mia gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles white, her eyes darting between the road and the rearview mirror. Beside her, Ethan slumped in the passenger seat, his breathing shallow, a blood-soaked rag pressed against his side. The radio crackled with static, occasionally spitting out fragments of a news report: “...escaped convicts... armed and dangerous... last seen near Route 17...”
