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Why wasn’t I giddy with excitement? I was finally on my way to the freedom that had been stolen from me. I was finally going to be able to make the life I wanted and that only I chose.

Instead, I felt like I was on the verge of puking, my eyes darting from the road that stretched out in front of us, to the other cars on the highway. Every time one of them pulled alongside us and tried to pass, my heart seized, thinking Dima had caught up with me.

I swiveled to look behind us, but there was no sign of any car that I recognized. Zoey had kept her foot mashed to the gas pedal for the first ten or so miles, but then we decided it was wiser not to attract attention from any random law enforcement that happened to be out patrolling.

Now, we cruised along just a hair above the speed limit, and it felt like we were crawling. Neither of us knew where we were going since there was no plan, only that we needed to find a more populated city to more easily disappear.

Zoey’s lips were white, moving as if she was speaking silently to herself. She gripped the steering wheel, quietly struggling not to freak out.

“Oh no,” she said, losing that battle. “Oh my God.”

“What is it?” I asked, whipping back around. But the only other cars nearby at the moment were a rickety camper and a couple of long-haul trucks.

“I’m almost out of gas,” she said, on the verge of tears. “I had no idea I’d be driving so far. I’m so sorry.”

I shook my head, telling her it wasn’t her fault. Why would she think she’d be staging a rescue and fill up her car in advance?

“We’ll just have to stop,” I said.

The tension rose as we passed several exits with no gas stations, and I could almost feel the life draining out of the compact rental as the miles flew by. Finally, I saw a sign, and we pulled over. She jumped out and immediately started filling up. I stared at the highway, feeling as exposed as if a giant sign were pointed right at me.

“Why is it so slow?” Zoey said, rattling the nozzle as if that would speed things up.

My heart pounded out of my chest as I scurried into the tiny convenience store for water, certain that Dima was right behind us and about to zoom down the exit ramp. Then I realized he had no idea what Zoey’s car looked like, and all I had to do was stay out of sight. Zoey was huddling low as she continued to urge the gas pump to hurry it up, so anyone glancing over from a speeding car wouldn’t think twice.

So why wasn’t I ducking back into the car and sinking below the line of the window? Instead, I anxiously kept pacing back and forth, staring at the highway. Was I subconsciously regretting this decision I had been working on for weeks?

Did I want Dima to catch up with me?

“What are you doing?” Zoey asked, looking at me fearfully as I stood there in plain view, like a beacon.

I broke out of my trance and jumped in the car, putting my head between my knees. It was only fear and adrenaline making me feel so sick I wasn’t able to think straight. Once we were back on the road, I cracked open one of the water bottles and took a long drink. I had to calm down and think of a plan for our final destination.

I could sell my ring as soon as we were in a big enough city and then work from there, praying whoever I approached to make me a new identity wasn’t somehow aligned with the Fokins. Their reach was far and wide, and anyone who knew about them wouldn’t want to be on their bad side. I was unlikely to make it far, but I had to try.

And then there was Zoey.

“After you drop me off, you better forget about going back for whatever you left behind,” I said. “Just go straight home to Indiana. And then maybe consider moving.”

Zoey made a strangled noise in reply, still using up all her concentration on the road. A new, horrible feeling hit me as the depth of what I’d gotten my new friend into sank in. There was no doubt Dima would have something to say to my accomplice if he found her, even if I managed to stay hidden. Especially if I managed to stay hidden. And who was I kidding? He’d find her. Not even Ivan’s crush on her could save her from an interrogation.

I basically consigned this sweet, helpful woman to a life in hiding and constant running, just like me. It was all too much, and I choked back a sob. I didn’t want to be on my own just yet. I was terrified of what lay ahead. But I’d been cavalier with Zoey’s kindness.

“Pull over at the next exit,” I said. “Just leave me, and maybe you can pretend you don’t know anything.”

“Are you kidding me?” she asked, looking offended even through her fear. “I’m not letting you go back to your awful husband. We’re not nearly far enough, and as if I’d ever leave you on the side of the road.” She straightened her shoulders. “I’m not scared.”

No matter what I said, she refused to slow down, assuring me we were going to make it somewhere safe, and that she’d continue to help however she could. Her bravery was all an act, but I began to feel bolstered by her forced confidence.

Maybe, just maybe, we could stay one step ahead.