After quickly grabbing a pack of the most common brands, I headed straight into the bathroom.

I didn’t expect to run into someone familiar on my way out—Chris Foster, my former squad leader.

He paused mid-step when he saw me, surprise flashing across his face before softening into recognition.

"Samantha Green?" he said, brow lifting. "I was just wondering why I didn’t see you on the bus. I—"

“Chris, did you bring your phone?” I interrupted, urgency tightening my voice.

He blinked, thrown off, then patted his pockets hurriedly.

“Ah… no. I left it on the bus. Want me to run back and get it?”

A wave of disappointment rippled through me, but before I could respond, the driver appeared behind us.

“What’s all this chatter about?” he asked sharply. “It’s hot out, and there are still people waiting in the bus.”

My back stiffened. I bit my lip and turned toward him with a small, nervous smile.

“My parents forgot to give me living expenses. I don’t have enough money to pay for what I bought… I was hoping to borrow a classmate’s phone to call my mom.”

“Really?” The driver eyed me like a hawk. “Your parents forgot something that important?”

I lowered my gaze. “They… had a fight this morning.”

The driver blinked. “A fight? On a day like this?”

I let my eyes redden, playing the part of the tearful daughter just well enough.

“My mom’s not well. She didn’t want me to go to university. She kept saying strange things—like she’d been reborn and if I went to school, I’d die miserably. She tried to stop me from leaving.”

Chris’s expression darkened. Without hesitation, he reached into his backpack and pulled out a handful of bills, stuffing them into my hand.

“It’s okay, Samantha,” he said firmly. “Take this for now. If you need more, just come find me later.”

Before I could say thank you, someone outside the shop called his name, telling him to hurry up and get on the bus.

He gave me a quick grin and jogged off, tossing his backpack over one shoulder.

“See you at Yale University!”

I stood frozen for a moment, watching his energetic figure disappear. My throat tightened.

Will I even make it to Yale University this time around…?

When I finally turned, the driver’s face was unreadable. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“I’m really sorry for all the trouble today,” I said softly. “Let me buy you a bottle of water.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You just borrowed money from someone else, and now you’re playing generous? Not worried about having nothing left at school?”

I smiled faintly. “One bottle of water won’t bankrupt me.”

He gave a short laugh and grabbed a cold soda from the fridge, cracking it open and downing half the bottle in one long gulp.

I quietly grabbed another bottle and handed it to him. “Just in case.”

When we returned to the bus, the girls immediately began complaining.

“What was that about? You locked the doors! We couldn’t even get off to buy water.”

The driver chuckled and pulled a box of bottled water from under the seat.

“Sorry about that—I didn’t expect to take so long. I just didn’t want anyone wandering off.”

He turned to me. “Come on, girl, help me pass them out.”

I bent down to grab a few bottles—then suddenly clutched my stomach, gasping softly.

The driver stiffened. He hurried over and crouched beside me.

“What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

“My stomach hurts,” I whispered, eyes clenched shut. “Bad cramps…”

Seeing I could barely stay upright, he quickly helped me back to my seat.

“I’ll get you some hot water,” he said, already turning for the door. Before stepping out, he told the girl in the front row, “Pass the water around, will you?”

As soon as he left, the girl reached into the box.

I sat up slightly and looked at her. My voice was quiet but firm.

“I wouldn’t drink that if I were you.”

The girls exchanged puzzled glances.

“Why not?” one of them asked.

I didn’t answer. I simply stared at the clock on the front monitor, the numbers ticking forward.

Whether they listened to me or not… wasn’t up to me anymore.

The driver returned with a cup of hot water, but instead of climbing onto the bus, he handed it through the window.

He cast a quick glance at the bottles in each girl’s hand, then clutched his stomach, mumbled something under his breath, and jogged back toward the store.

At exactly 8:00 p.m., he finally returned and climbed into the driver’s seat.

Right on time.

I curled my lips into a faint smile and closed my eyes, pretending to sleep.

The bus rolled into the city, weaving smoothly through traffic. Soon, we turned onto Fortune Lane. Neon lights flickered across the windshield, and the red traffic lights bled into the dusk.

The countdown at the next intersection flashed: 6… 5… 4…

The driver stepped on the accelerator, easing the bus across just as the light turned yellow.

I opened my eyes, fingers digging into the back of the front seat, my pulse thundering in my ears.

It’s coming.

Out of nowhere, a blue Ferrari barreled into the intersection from the left, tires screeching as it fishtailed out of control.

Screech—CRASH!

The front windshield shattered into a thousand shards. Even though I’d braced myself, the impact threw me forward. My chest slammed into the seat, and pain exploded in my ribs.

My ears rang. My vision blurred. For a moment, all I could hear was static.

Then, slowly, the noise around me came back into focus—sobs, gasps, panicked murmurs.

I forced myself up and staggered toward the front of the bus.

The driver slumped over the wheel, unmoving. Blood dripped from a gash on his forehead, running down his face.

“Uncle?” I grabbed his arm and shook it gently.

No response.

With trembling hands, I reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

“Is… is he dead?” a girl with a bleeding arm came up beside me, her voice trembling. “What do we do now?”

I looked at her, and a cold smile curved on my lips.

“Good,” I muttered. “Better that he’s dead.”

The bus fell into stunned silence. One by one, the other girls turned toward me, eyes wide in shock.

I ignored their stares, shoved past the girl in front of me, pushed open the emergency exit window, and climbed out.

A small crowd had gathered outside, rushing to help. As they caught me and set me down, they didn’t question a thing—just waved toward the others.

“Come on, girls! Jump, we’ll catch you!”

I backed away, phone in hand, typing rapidly as I moved toward the edge of the crowd.

People were already calling the police.

But I knew the truth: the police wouldn’t come fast enough—and even if they did, they might not be able to save me.

I glanced back at the girls still frozen by the bus windows. Then, without hesitation, I hurled the phone into a nearby sewer grate and turned to run.

I had no time to waste. If I didn’t get out of this town before they reacted, I wouldn’t get another chance.

At the roadside, I threw up my hand, trying to flag down a taxi. Just then, a motorcycle rolled up beside me.

A man in a leather jacket leaned forward. “Hey, little girl, need a ride? I’ll take you wherever you need to go.”

The moment I heard his voice, a chill raced down my spine.

My eyes widened—and I lashed out with a kick.

The motorcycle toppled, the man hitting the ground with a thud. Before he could even react, I turned and sprinted in the opposite direction.

He scrambled up with a curse and gave chase on foot for a few seconds—then gave up and jumped back on the bike.

I veered sharply and ducked into a nearby mall.

He followed on foot, yelling at a phone as he scanned the crowd. His voice echoed down the corridors, angry and breathless.

By nightfall, I was crouched behind a dumpster outside, disguised in rags I’d grabbed from a thrift bin, blending in like a beggar.

I overheard two passersby talking as they walked past.

“Did you hear? That whole mess earlier was just to track down a runaway college girl.”

“College girl? More like a spoiled brat. I heard she didn’t even get into university—her family wanted her to attend a tech school, and she ran off in a tantrum.”

“A girl like that’s just trouble waiting to happen.”

Their words burned, but I didn’t move.

The town was nearly locked down—searched block by block. I kept shifting locations, hiding in alleys, storage rooms, even drainage ditches. I was caught nearly three times.

I knew I couldn’t keep this up forever.

So I took a gamble—and fled into the mountains.

The town had eighteen surrounding villages, and if it had anything in abundance, it was wilderness. Mountains stretched in all directions like an endless green maze.

But even that wasn’t enough.

They found my trail less than three hours after I vanished into the forest.

Looking down at the long trail of car lights winding like a dragon at the foot of the mountain, I quietly took out a thick flashlight from my backpack and began descending carefully.

No one knew that while the search parties combed the mountains for me, I had already slipped back into the town unnoticed.

The trash bin stank, flies buzzing around its rim—but I had no choice. I was starving. I needed strength to keep going.

I reached inside and pulled out half a sticky, oil-soaked glutinous rice cake. Just as I was about to take a bite, a familiar voice rang out behind me.

"Samantha?"

Every hair on my body stood on end. Slowly, I turned.

It was the girl who’d sat next to me on the bus. She stared at me in disbelief, her lips parted in shock.

My instincts kicked in. I grabbed her wrist and dragged her into a nearby alley without another word.

She stumbled, clearly injured—her leg was dragging awkwardly behind her. But she didn’t cry out.

Once I was sure no one had followed us, I released her.

"Why are you here?" I demanded. "You should’ve been sent back… or locked up. How did you get out?"

She flinched, shrinking back a step. “I—I saw you running, so I followed…”

I narrowed my eyes, trying to read her expression. Something wasn’t right.

She bit her lower lip and took a shaky step forward. “Samantha, why did you run? I thought… I thought you were going to college.”

Her question caught me off guard. I said nothing.

She suddenly grabbed my arm, her grip surprisingly tight. Desperate.

“I heard the people who arrested us talking. They said our parents were taken away. They said… it was because the driver lost something very important.”

She hesitated, then looked at me dead in the eye.

“You were the only one who went near him after the crash. You took it, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t.” My voice was ice.

I shook her hand off. “They’re lying. All of them. You really believe anything they say?”

She looked heartbroken, eyes glassy with tears. I sighed and backed into the corner of the wall, crouching low in frustration.

I had no choice now. I couldn’t let her go back.

After a long pause, I asked, “Do you want to follow me—or go back alone?”

She wiped her tears, eyes searching mine. “I… I want to stay with you. I’m scared to be by myself.”

“Fine. Then listen to me. Don’t ask questions, and do exactly what I say. Got it?”

She nodded quickly.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Lily Wade.”

I nodded. Leaning against the wall, I pushed myself upright and started walking, motioning for her to follow.

We hadn’t taken more than a few steps when something crashed into the back of my head.

A searing pain exploded through my skull. I turned in shock.

Lily stood there, crying, holding a black brick in her trembling hands.

“I—I didn’t want to… But they said they’d let my parents go if I helped catch you…”

My vision blurred as I collapsed to the ground, blood warmed against the back of my neck, trickling into my mouth.

In the distance, I saw a shadow rushing toward me.

You really can’t trust anyone, I thought bitterly, as darkness swallowed me.