For a second, Sabrina was disoriented.
The world tilted, then stilled, like a camera losing focus before snapping back in.
She didn't understand what was going on—what she was doing sitting in a car with a driver, why she was suddenly wondering what the man wanted, what he meant by saying her family was on the way to being ridden by poverty.
The words replayed in her head, jarring and unreal. What did he even know about them? How did he even know? And what, exactly, was happening on the socials while her life seemed to be unraveling in real time?
Her hand reached for her bag automatically, muscle memory taking over before thought could intervene.
When she realized—again—that the bag was gone, lost somewhere between running for her life and flying into this cab, another curse tore from her lips, sharper this time, louder.
Loud enough to make the driver smile.
That smile drew Sabrina up short.
"What is funny?" she snapped, her voice brittle.
