I glanced worriedly over the top of my magazine and out into the rain, hoping my daughter would be alright. Kimba was a very capable young woman, but my 17-year old adopted daughter was meeting us at our vacation house on the island, relying on one of her "buddies" to drive her from her private high school all the way to the ferry.

I puffed on my cigarette, gazing over at my husband, David. "Do you think she's gonna make it?"

His expression stayed passive. "I certainly hope so."

"Do you think we'll make it?" I asked with a glance at the clock on the dash.

"I certainly hope so," he repeated in the exact same tone. The speedometer needle lifted itself around an arch as David pressed the gas further down.

"Well, dot get carried away," I said softly.

"I'm not getting carried away, I'm just trying to make sure that we don't-"

"Make sure that we get there first," I interrupted when his voice teetered toward defensiveness.

"I don't think doing 65 on route 1 makes us Bonnie and Clyde," he retorted sarcastically.

I turned back to my magazine.

"Just keep your eyes peeled, okay?" David requested.

I continued thumbing through my magazine.

It was ripped out of my hands and tossed into the backseat within a mere minute. "Darling, I mean it, I need your help here. This is like hydroplaning through the god damned bayou."

I glared at him. "Don't blame me because you were two hours late, David, it doesn't become you." I forcefully put my cigarette out in the ashtray hanging off the edge of the dash. I sighed and looked out of the window, holding my forehead in annoyance.

For absolutely no reason whatsoever, David starting pressing down on the horn in the middle of the steering wheel.

"What is wrong with you?"

"Honey, just watch the road," he said shortly.

The rain pattering down outside added to my irritability. Even the inside of the car was cold. I scoffed and turned to look out of the windshield. Something dark on the side of the road caught my eye.

"Slow down."

"What is it?" he asked, not slowing down in the slightest.

It was a person. The person was running toward the road, but when it got to the edge, it just fell over, crumpled in on itself as it dropped to the ground.


"What do you mean stop? We're gonna miss the boat."

"No, really I think I saw something!"

"Saw something? What do you mean?"

"David! Stop!"

David pulled the car over to the side of the road and we both got out of the car, into the ice cold rain. I jogged ahead of David to the side of the road. A young man with dark hair was laying on the ground, seeming to have passed out.

"Is he alive?" David asked nervously.

I crouched down next to the boy. I reached out, about to touch his head.

"Stop," David said before my hand could reach him.

"What?" I asked, turning around.

"Don't touch him," he snarled derisively. "I think we should just call the police and not get involved."

"Involved? He needs help!" I turned back to the boy.

"I know! That's why we're calling the police!"

"But shouldn't we just-"

"No. Trust me." David started to walk back to the car.

The young boy lifted his head, surprisingly vocal considering he had just woken up. "No," he said softly. "No cops."

David turned around, staring down at the boy incredulously.

Without his face in the ground, I could see him better now. He had bright blue eyes that stared out from the gloom of the rain, but his left eye was blackened by a large bruise. His dark hair was long enough to barely reach the middle of his face, most of it sticking to his forehead from the rain.

"Do you know where you are?" I asked quietly.

He blinked at me a couple times, making a pained faced before looking at the land around him. "Sorta."

"Can you walk?"

David cut in. "I'm calling the police."

"I said no cops!" the boy said, trying to speak louder so his young voice reached my husband's ears over the noise of the rain.

"Listen," David started. "We have boat to catch."

"David!" I said, not looking up from the boy.

"Alexis, will you let me handle this? We cant help you if you don't let me call the police."

A short pause. "Then don't help." The courage that flashed through the young man's eyes was heartbreaking, inspiring that someone so young could face whatever he was going through (and it looked like one hell of something) alone.

After small discussion, I convinced David to let him ride as far as the ferry with us.

Let me know if I should keep going! :) Thanks for reading!