She wanted to know how I was doing

"How are you?" she asked, in a worried voice.

She wanted to know how I was doing.

How to tell her? Well enough? I thought about her question for a brief second and she noticed my hesitation. Was I really doing well?

"Not good." My tone was angry. "Not well at all." It was dark now, the headlights of other cars paraded before my eyes like flashes of lightning. I was so angry that my body was stiff. My hands wanted to grind the wheel. "Alma?" I asked in a hissing tone, issued from between my clenched teeth.

"Yes?" she answered weakly. She coughed.

"What about you?"

It was really the most important thing, the first thing I needed to know. Vengeance was secondary. I knew it, but my body was enraged, preventing me from thinking clearly.

"I'll be okay." Her voice was low - probably from fear.

She was in great danger and the die had been cast. It was also very annoying that I didn't know why yet. I was convinced that the entire universe was playing a joke on me.