It’s been an awful day. When your shift ends, you’re relying on the idea of a quiet night of sleep to get you to summon up the will to make the walk out to your car - so you’re not too happy when someone calls out to you, & stops you with a hand on your arm.

Your anger lessens, though, when you turn to be met with Angela bearing a soft expression that lately, seems to be reserved just for you.

“Let me drive you home.” She more so states rather than asks, telling you there’s no room for argument.