Rafael Vexley's black SUV growled quietly where it sat on the shoulder of the quiet highway, the engine's low hum like a caged predator pacing behind steel bars. Outside, the late morning sun blazed high, spreading long streaks of light across the asphalt. Heat shimmered above the road in restless waves, warping the horizon into a mirage. The world seemed too still for the hour, broken only by the occasional car speeding past, a fleeting reminder that life carried on elsewhere, indifferent to the storm brewing inside the vehicle.
Inside, the air felt dense, almost choking, as though the leather and tinted glass were holding the tension prisoner along with them. Every exhale carried weight, every inhale came slower than the last.
