Camilla's POV
The cool glass pressed against my temple as I watched the familiar streets blur past through the passenger window. Gerald's hands gripped the steering wheel with casual confidence, the engine's steady purr filling the space between us. Everything outside looked so peaceful - children walking to school, neighbors watering their gardens, the ordinary rhythm of morning life. Yet inside this car, tension coiled through my chest like a spring wound too tight.
Gerald had insisted on driving us today. Not his usual driver, not my perfectly functional car sitting in the driveway, but him personally behind the wheel. He claimed it was just a kind gesture, but I knew better. Gerald never did anything without an agenda.
My car keys had been right there on the kitchen counter, ready to go. I could have easily driven Elsie and myself like every other morning. But somehow, in the brief minutes I spent upstairs getting dressed, Gerald had worked his magic on my daughter.
