Back at the trailer, Malik sat alone now. The sky had darkened; the sounds of the day had quieted. He held the business card in his hand again, turning it slowly between his fingers: William Harrington. A name that didn't belong in his world; a man who didn't belong in his life. And yet, there he was.
Malik looked out at the road: empty, still, for now. But something told him it wouldn't stay that way for long. Because whatever had started on that dirt road wasn't finished. Not even close.
And this time, it wasn't just about a car anymore.
The night didn't bring peace. It never really did in Pine Hollow. But that night felt different: heavier, like the air itself was holding something back.
Malik lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. The thin mattress creaked every time he shifted, the sound loud in the quiet trailer. Outside, crickets filled the darkness with a steady rhythm. But inside, there was something else: that cough. Lisa's cough.
It came again, sharper this time. Malik sat up immediately.
"Mom?" he called softly.
No answer, just the sound again—stronger, strained.
He swung his feet to the floor and moved quickly down the narrow hallway, his heart already beating faster than it should. The kitchen light was still on. Lisa stood near the sink, one hand gripping the counter, the other pressed against her chest as her body bent forward with the force of it.
"Mom!" Malik rushed to her side, steadying her before she could lose her balance.
"I'm okay," she tried to say, but the words broke apart between breaths.
"No, you're not," Malik said. His voice wasn't calm anymore. It couldn't be, because this wasn't like before. This wasn't just tired; this was something worse. "Sit down," he said, guiding her to the chair.
Lisa tried to resist, just a little. "I just need a minute—"
"Sit."
This time she didn't argue. She sank into the chair slowly, her breathing uneven, her face pale under the dim light. Malik grabbed a glass of water and placed it in her hand, but her fingers trembled too much to hold it steady. He held it for her.
"Slow," he said. "Just breathe."
Lisa nodded weakly, taking a small sip. But it didn't help—not enough. The silence between breaths stretched longer. Too long.
Malik felt it then: that same feeling he had earlier, only worse. Because now it wasn't a thought; it was real.
"I'm calling someone," he said.
Lisa shook her head quickly. "No."
"Yes."
"We can't afford—"
"I don't care!"