Mrs. Johnson sat in the car, trembling. She watched as Samuel Johnson carried Amanda Smith into his sedan and sat motionless for a long time. Her pale face reflected against the car window, and out of helplessness, she clutched her own face, cold sweat covering her forehead in fear.
She had no idea how Samuel could have known about this situation, how he figured it out, or even how he knew to wait for them on this road. There couldn't have been a third party aware of her conversation with Amanda, and Amanda herself wouldn't have said anything. She wanted to leave so much; she wouldn't have let anything slip carelessly.
How did he find out, and how did he know they were taking this road? Mrs. Johnson's mind brimmed with these thoughts, and cold sweat streamed down her face. She didn't know how to face her son.
