That night, by a dying fire, Mara finally spoke. She had once been like Rook. A simple driver, hauling freight. Until a government experiment spilled silver across her convoy. She was the only one who lived.
"They've been trying to weaponize the Road for decades," she said bitterly. "The Freights are part of that. And now you're part of it too."
Rook stared into the flames. "I didn't sign up for this."
Mara's laugh was sharp. "Neither did I. But the Road doesn't care what you signed. Only what you'll pay."