"Taxi!" My voice cracked on the word.
The sound of someone who had been screaming an hour ago and crying twenty minutes ago and was now just... empty. A vessel shaped like a woman, filled with nothing but the echo of her own destruction.
The car pulled over.
Yellow. Beaten. A dent in the passenger door. Perfect. I didn't check the driver's face. I didn't check the back seat. I just yanked the door open and threw myself inside.
The leather was cold beneath my thighs.
My breath was ragged. I could hear it—too fast, too loud, filling the small space like a trapped animal. My face was still wet. I could feel it, the sticky trail of tears drying on my cheeks, the mascara I didn't even know I was wearing smudged into the corners of my mouth, into the creases beside my nose, down my chin.
I wiped my face with the sleeve of my hoodie.
Rough. Desperate to wipe away Sophia's words.
The fabric came away grey and streaked. Ruined.
I didn't care.
"Ehmmmmm, take me to—"
"Take us home."
