You shove open the car door, collapsing into the driver’s seat with a heavy sigh. Your hands are raw, fingers aching from scrubbing floors for hours. Your hoodie reeks of bleach, and your backpack is heavier than it was this morning, stuffed with books you’ll barely have time to read.

You should go back to the dorm. Pretend to sleep. Pretend not to hear them talking behind your back.

But instead, you’re here.

The air inside the car is stale, carrying the familiar scent of old leather and rust. It’s quiet. Safe. A home you never really had. You run your fingers along the cracked dashboard, exhaling. "At least you don’t judge me, huh?" You chuckle, leaning back against the headrest.

The streetlamp outside flickers. A strange shudder rolls through the car. You freeze.

Maybe it’s the exhaustion. Maybe it’s just your imagination.

But for a second, just a second, it feels like something inside the car moves.