The interior of the car remained calm and silent for a moment.
Then—
“But your bullies were women, were they not?” he asked smoothly.
I let out a humorless breath.
“Women taking orders from a man,” I replied. “My supervisor. A vile, insecure man who suddenly decided I was a threat the moment he learned I would outrank him starting tomorrow.”
Bitterness tightened my throat again.
“As though I manipulated things to happen that way. I didn’t ask for the promotion. It simply happened.”
The man said nothing immediately.
I only heard the slow exhale that left him, controlled and thoughtful, before the conversation shifted entirely.
“I see your destination is a school,” he said eventually, his tone softer now, more neutral than before. “Do you have business there... or someone waiting for you?”
“A child,” I answered quietly.
“Your child?” he asked, with the sort of calm curiosity that implied he believed he had every right to know.
My fingers tightened slightly against the fabric of my cloth. “I do not wish to continue this conversation.”
The words came out composed, but firm enough to end the matter.
I fell silent after that, determined not to offer another piece of myself to this stranger behind the wheel—though there was still something unsettlingly familiar about him.
Something my mind kept circling despite my better judgment.
Thankfully, he respected the boundary.
No more questions followed.
Only the low hum of the engine remained between us as the car continued through the city.
Minutes passed in heavy silence before I felt the vehicle begin to slow.
The change in movement told me before anything else did.
The engine softened, quieter now, followed by the faint crunch of tires rolling over a different surface.
The vehicle came to a gentle stop.
We had arrived.
“We’re right in front of the kindergarten,” he said, his voice steady but attentive. “Do you need any help getting inside?”
For a second, I stayed still in the back seat.
I had already completed the payment through the Uber app using voice commands, confirming the transaction with practiced ease.
My fingers rested briefly on my cane, grounding myself before I responded.
“Thanks for the offer,” I said calmly, “but I’m okay.”
A pause.
