It's about who you are

The engine's soft hum was a steady, almost hypnotic sound as I drove through the nearly deserted streets.

The night wrapped around the car like a blanket, and the city lights streaked across the windshield in fluid lines of gold and white, their brilliance diffused by the faint fog clinging to the air.

Neon signs flashed intermittently, their colors reflecting off the slick asphalt, and distant streetlamps cast long shadows, making the world seem both alive and eerily still.

My hands gripped the steering wheel tighter than necessary, the leather cool against my palms. My knuckles were bone-white, a stark contrast to the shadowed interior of the car.

Layla's voice replayed in my mind like a haunting melody, her words filled with worry and a longing that threatened to crack my resolve.