It was a miracle that I could drive myself back home after that encounter. My hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles turned white, my thoughts spiralling uncontrollably after what had just happened with Monty. The image of him standing in the darkened house, gun in hand, replayed in my mind on an endless loop. The cold look in his eyes, the threats he'd made — it all left me rattled, more shaken than I wanted to admit.
But I couldn't tell anyone. Not even Felicia. Bringing Monty into this would only complicate things further, and I wasn't ready for that confrontation. Not yet.
