Married to My Stalker
The city blurred past the windows in streaks of light and stone. Damian drove in silence, one hand on the wheel, the other resting protectively on Nova’s thigh. She clutched the journal tight in her lap, the USB drive sealed in an inner pocket of her coat. They didn’t speak at first. The weight of what they’d uncovered pressed between them like fog, thick, clinging, impossible to ignore.
Nova finally broke the silence. “He was trying to take them down. And they made an example out of him.”