TESSA
The car kept moving, and I stopped counting the hours somewhere after the first thirty minutes. The city lights blurred into one long smear of yellow and white. My wrists burned where the ropes bit into my skin. Every bump in the road made something ache. The guy beside me hummed to himself like it was a road trip. I kept my mouth shut because every word I tried to say earned me a slap, and slaps did worse than bruise.
When the engine finally died, I almost cried from relief, but the relief was stupid and small. The door opened, and cold air hit me like a punch. I tried to kick before they lifted me out, but my feet found nothing solid to push off. The man’s grip on my arms was like iron; he didn’t even slow when I screamed.
They carried me up a short set of steps into a building
