it jerked forward. A guard jumped into the truck last second, sitting diagonal from me adjusted his rifle. I hated the way he stared, like I was some kind of problem he'd have to deal with later.

''So,'' I started, ''do you get paid extra to sit there and look intimidating, or is that just your natural charm?''

The guard's jaw tightened, and his eyes narrowed. He shifted forward, grabbing the rag on my lap and leaning toward me. I jerked my head back instinctively as he reached to tie it over my mouth again.

''Okay! I got the fucking memo,'' I snapped, scooting away from him as much as the ropes would allow. ''Sorry for trying to keep the conversation flowing.''

His glare lingered for a moment before he threw the rag back at me and leaned against the side of the truck. His silence wasn't reassuring—it was more like he was deciding whether I was worth the effort of dealing with right now.

I leaned back, letting out a frustrated sigh and glaring at the horizon. My fingers worked slowly, almost imperceptibly, at the ropes around my wrists. I'd been practising since they'd tied me up, testing the knots, feeling for weaknesses. I wasn't just going to sit here and wait to be rescued. I had a plan. Well, sort of.

The truck hit another bump, jostling me slightly. I clenched my teeth. This wasn't the end of the line. Not for me. If I could just get one opportunity, one moment to act, I'd be gone before they even realised I was missing.

For now, I bided my time, watching the guard out of the corner of my eye and memorising every turn the truck took. I stared ahead, trying to map out every bump and turn in the road. If I was going to get out of here, I needed to remember everything. Whatever they had planned, I wasn't sticking around to find out

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