Debbie
The car glided through the dark streets, the engine of the car purring like a quiet beast. Rain didn't drive far. He pulled over into a small, secluded clearing just a few minutes away from the estate, the trees tall and silent around us, shielding the car from the main road.
He killed the engine. The silence that followed was heavy. It felt like it was pressing against my eardrums. I didn't look at him. Not once.
I kept my eyes locked on the dashboard, my hands folded tightly in my lap.
Rain shifted in his seat. I could feel his gaze on the side of my face, burning like a fever.
"Debbie," he started, his voice cracking. "I... I’m not supposed to be here to say sorry. I know how ridiculous that sounds. Words don't really fix what you saw."
I didn't move. "Then why are you here
