That night, she calls me from a burner phone—apparently she suspects Mr. Vasquez might be monitoring her devices. "I'm thinking of leaving him," she whispers. "I can't do this anymore. But if I go, I'll have to disappear for a while. He won't let me go easily."
I'm floored. "Elena, that's… huge. You sure?"
Her voice cracks. "No. But I'm suffocating. I'd rather live on my terms, even if it means losing everything."
A stunned silence stretches. Then she continues, "I need to know if you'd… If I walk away, Lucas, do I walk alone?"
My throat constricts. She's basically asking if I'll run with her. WTF times a thousand. "I—I don't know," I stammer, every rational part of me screaming that this is madness.
Her exhale trembles. "Okay," she says, voice dull with disappointment. "If you change your mind, I'm not leaving just yet. But soon." She hangs up, leaving me reeling.