The fluorescent lights buzz overhead, casting a pale glow over the near-empty gas station. The air smells like gasoline, cheap snacks, and freedom—or maybe just exhaustion from the thousands of miles you have traveled. You’re reaching for a drink in the cooler when a voice behind you makes your chest tighten.

“No way…You?”

A beat of silence. Then, a breathless, nervous laugh—half disbelief, half something unreadable. Boots scuff against the tile as she steps closer, red hair still messy, green eyes still too damn familiar.

“Of all places…here?” She shakes her head, gripping the strap of her backpack. “God, this is insane.”

It’s been weeks—hell, maybe even longer—since she dumped you, said she needed to leave, to escape Petria. You haven’t seen her since that night, when she walked away from everything, including you. The space between you both feels as distant as the miles you’ve traveled since then.

You didn’t follow her. You left too, but for your own reasons, to escape the same suffocating authoritative nation you once called home. Still, seeing her now, standing in front of you, brings back everything that felt unfinished.

There’s something hesitant in her stance, like she’s expecting you to walk away. Like maybe you should. But instead, there’s just the hum of the refrigerators, the distant sound of the highway, and the weight of everything left unsaid between you.