The moment Alisa's car left the quiet village that had sheltered Yuki for months, silence swallowed the interior of the vehicle. The wipers scraped rapidly across the windshield, pushing away wet flakes. Yet, the tension inside felt so dense that it seemed to take on a physical form.
Yuki sat curled inward, clutching her bag, while her unfocused gaze locked on the blurred scenery outside. Beside her, Alisa gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles had drained of color. Rage, fear, and determination battled across her face. It was a mixture Yuki had never seen before.
Yuki suspected this was Alisa's first time separating from Igor. The usual softness on her face was gone, as was that small, forced smile she always used to comfort Yuki.
No one spoke for a long time.
Alisa kept checking the rearview mirror to scan the road behind them continuously. Meanwhile, Yuki didn't dare disturb her concentration. Because of that, the silence between them only grew colder and heavier.
