The next five minutes pass in tense silence and there’s not a single glance in my direction. They don’t ask for my bag, or the documents, or anything else I thought they might want. I assume Mr. Cooper is the one who will handle that part later. I can’t stop my mind from running through everything I’ve read, everything I know about situations like this, even though I can barely focus on the road ahead.
Then the car slows around the address I figured out. The street is quiet and there are a few houses, old, worn-down things with paint peeling and lawns unkempt, but no people. I doubt anyone would hear me if I screamed. Very unlikely.
We stop in front of a building that looks like it’s been abandoned for years. The windows are dark, the kind of place that makes every instinct in my body sc
