Behind the wheel

Seated behind the wheel, Tryson maneuvered the winding streets of the estate, the silence in the car stretching between them, thick and taut like a rope pulled to its breaking point.

Beside him, Angel sat still, her gaze fixed on the blur of streetlights outside, her mind seemingly lost in their rhythmic flicker.

"Angel," Tryson's voice cut through the stillness, low and measured, carrying the weight of something unspoken.

She turned toward him, her eyes narrowing just slightly, her expression a mix of curiosity and caution.

He glanced at the road, then back at her, a moment of hesitation clouding his usually confident demeanor. "I've been thinking… it might be time to renew the contract."

Angel's brow furrowed in instant concern, the calm she had worn slipping away, replaced by a sharp edge of suspicion. "Renew the contract? I thought we were still operating under the old one."