The drive through the inland California scrub seemed to go on forever. By the time Dana made it into and then over the mountains, the sky was just beginning to show the very first hints of pre-dawn light.

More than anything else, Valerie was confused by the man’s words and his treatment of her. She didn’t believe his assurance that he meant her no harm- He’d already drugged her, and her cramped and bruised body seemed to pass the bar for “hurting” as far as she was concerned. The car hit a small bump that knocked her up and down against the unpadded trunk floor, and she whimpered, and tried without success to find a position that was comfortable.

The doorbell was insistent and ungraceful, someone pushing the button over and over again while simultaneously hammering on the door, rattling the security chain. She dropped her phone in surprise at the suddenness of it, but recovered it quickly and slipped it into the pocket of her pajamas. She cracked open the door, security chain still fastened.

okay. Valerie sent the first message quickly, rapidly typing out the four letters and hitting send before her mind had a chance to reconsider yet again. She immediately tapped the message and her finger hovered over the delete button while she agonized. The Read indicator showed up a moment later.

Six months ago. Valerie stepped through the door, into to the apartment that she and Heather shared. She was shivering from the cold and the fog outside. The apartment was dark, and silent- normally Heather would on the couch, murdering a bottle of wine while watching something inane on the TV.

Valerie wasn’t sure how long her alarm had been going off. She’d gotten back to her apartment late Sunday afternoon- had lost most of the day- and was so drained and groggy that she collapsed into bed.

“No plan survives first contact with the enemy.” Dana wasn’t sure whether the predator-prey connection she had with Valerie counted as the girl being her “enemy-” but she supposed it must, because her plan had just fallen apart completely.

The sliding glass door was easy for Dana to shim open; the simple slide lock was a polite suggestion of “do not enter” rather than any kind of real security. The empty wine glass perched halfway off the edge of a side table took her by surprise, however. She was nervous and less graceful than she knew she could be, and it was the slightest bump against the table that left her frozen in terror as the glass smashed to bits on the apartment’s polished concrete floor. She held her breath, expecting to see the bedroom light flick on- to see her cue to turn and run.

“Oat milk mocha,” Dana ordered tersely across the counter. She’d been coming to this café for a few weeks now, and she took her usual place next to the window. She the only customer this morning, partly due to how expensive and yet poor quality the coffee was, but mostly because she had arrived at open, while the sun still crawled its way up from the horizon.

Valerie sobbed behind the wheel as she drove home down the darkened highway. The sun had already set despite the long summer hours- she had worked late, again, and it hadn’t been a good day even before that. She felt scared, and, worse- hopeless.