"Oh, Lord in Heaven, we are in serious shit," Toby whispered.
Dean gave a nervous laugh, though it cracked in the middle. "These people are gangsters. Actual gangsters. This is how we die, isn't it? Following a woman and her kid to get their pictures for a paycheck."
"Don't be dramatic," Toby muttered, though his voice wavered. He shoved his camera into the backseat as if it were incriminating evidence. His chest tightened.
Dean gripped the wheel, frozen, waiting for the knock on the glass that would seal their fate.
Toby leaned back, shut his eyes for one brief second, and exhaled. "Damn it, Dean. You ruined everything."
Outside, the two men closed in, each heavy step echoing like a countdown.
Toby's pulse thudded in his ears as the two men approached, their shadows swallowing the front of their car.
Dean whispered, barely moving his lips, "Okay… hear me out. We just apologize. Polite. Like gentlemen. Maybe they'll let us go."
