Peter froze, staring out the window as Natalie moved toward his car, a bag slung over her shoulder. His chest tightened. “What is she doing?” he whispered. Before he could process, the car’s engine roared to life, startling him. She wasn’t meeting anyone—she was leaving.
The realization hit like a punch. Natalie, the woman he had tried to help, was taking his car. He stood frozen, watching as the vehicle rolled out of the driveway, the red tail lights glowing faintly before vanishing into the darkness. A bitter chill ran through him.