The silence was awkward when we got in the car.
I could see Benjamin’s grip on the steering wheel tighten. He looked so angry. His jaw was clenched, and the veins on his hand stood out like they were about to pop.
I needed to say something. So I asked quietly, “How did you know where I was?”
He looked at me for the first time since we got into the car. His eyes were cold, hard. And then just as quickly, he looked back at the road.
His voice was low, but full of frustration. “Why didn’t you tell me he called you? Why did you go and see him without telling me? What if he hurt you or it was a trap?”
I blinked. I knew I had made a mistake, but I didn’t expect this much anger.
“It was not a trap,” I said, trying to stay calm. “He didn’t hurt me, did he?”
I could see anger boiling in his
