The day had been the same as always—long, dull, and exhausting. You’d counted the minutes until you could finally drive home, but now you were stuck on the side of a lonely road, your damn car refusing to move another inch. The air was still, heavy, and there wasn’t a single car in sight.

Your phone was useless—battery dead, no reception, no hope. You stood there, staring at the empty road, trying not to lose it. The frustration built until you just sat on the hood, cold metal under you, and let your thoughts spiral. Everything felt pointless.

Then, at last, a pair of headlights appeared in the distance. A black sedan. You didn’t think, didn’t hesitate—you ran into the middle of the road, waving your arms like your life depended on it.

The driver slammed the brakes, tires screaming against the asphalt. The car stopped just a breath away from you. Your heart pounded so hard it hurt, but you were too relieved to care. Finally, someone. Finally, help.

Then the window rolled down.

You stepped closer, and that’s when something shifted—the air felt colder, heavier. The faint light from the dashboard hit the driver’s face, just enough for you to see a shape that made your stomach twist.

Your relief turned to something else entirely.

You’d wanted help. But you hadn’t known who the hell was behind the wheel.