Joanna froze, her fingers curling into fists. Trust was a fragile thing—shattered so many times, it barely existed for her. Yet in his tone, she heard no mockery, no pity. Only steel.
She hesitated for one breath, two. Then she exhaled and pulled the car door open. Sliding into the seat, she shut the door behind her like sealing a chapter of her life.
The engine roared to life. The hospital, with all its lies and betrayals, began to shrink in the rearview mirror. Its glowing windows blurred into the distance until they were nothing but fading specks against the night.
Joanna pressed a hand against her belly, feeling the pup’s faint kick. Her child stirred as if reminding her of the future still waiting to be claimed.
“This isn’t running away,” she whispered to herself. “This is the beginning.”
The man glanced at her, his expression unreadable. “You’ll need strength for what comes next. Are you ready to fight?”
Joanna met his gaze, her eyes glinting with a resolve she had never known she possessed.
“Yes,” she said firmly. “I’m done being the victim.”
The car sped into the darkness, carrying her toward the unknown.
For the first time in months, Joanna felt something other than despair.
Hope.