PART 2 : The Ride Home
Daniel drove in silence while I sat in the back seat with my mother. She smelled of rain, old newspapers, and something sour I didn’t want to name. I kept one arm around her shoulders, afraid she might disappear again if I let go.
She kept apologizing in a whisper.
“I’m sorry you had to see me like this, Rachel. I didn’t want to bother you. You have your own life…”
“Mom, stop,” I said, voice cracking. “You’re never a bother.”
Daniel glanced at us in the rearview mirror but said nothing. His jaw was tight. I recognized that look. It was the same one he wore when he was building a case — precise, methodical, already ten steps ahead.
When we reached our house, he helped my mother inside without asking. He ran a bath, found one of my old sweaters and a pair of soft pants, and laid everything out on the guest bed like he had done this before.
While she showered, I stood in the kitchen watching Daniel make tea. His movements were calm, but I could see the tension in his shoulders.
“You’re going to destroy them, aren’t you?” I asked quietly.
May you like
He didn’t look up from the kettle.
“I’m going to make sure they never have the chance to do this to anyone again.”
