WNDR6805

Nowhere Left to Run

You have been running for six weeks — new city, new name, same nightmare following three steps behind. This morning it caught up: the man your ex sent is standing outside the hotel you ducked into, and he is not leaving. You collide with a stranger near the concierge desk — tall, unhurried, watching the street with eyes that already know too much — and before you can apologize and bolt, he says four words that change everything.