My Life, My Rules (Apparently Not)

Previously

…She walked back to the diner. Under the bench outside was a folded piece of paper. She opened it. Scrawled in familiar handwriting: “I’m at the county lockup in Milltown. They’re trying to transfer me interstate. Hurry. —G” Milltown was two counties over. She had no money, no ride, and no plan. But she had hope. She looked up. A black sedan sat across the street, engine running. Through the tinted window, she could just make out the silhouette of a man in a suit. Mr. Pemberton. The car didn’t move. It just watched. Elizabeth folded the note, put it in her pocket, and started walking. She had a long way to go. And whoever was after them wasn’t done yet.