Lara bolted to her car across the parking lot, reaching her BMW in seconds. Her shaky hands yanked the Chanel bag open and rummaged through it, frantically searching for the keys. She hunched over, looking into the bag as her fingers landed on everything but the one thing she was in pursuit of. She tripped over her own feet, and the bag slipped from her arm. It hit the ground, and everything spilled onto warm asphalt. A small glass container with her favourite Dior lip gloss rolled underneath the car, stopping by the tire.

"Fuck!" she cried out.

She crouched down, hurriedly trying to scoop all of her belongings back into her bag.

"You good?" a male voice asked behind her. "Need some help?" 

Lara turned her head, her eyes finding a slim man. He was tall and lanky like a scarecrow. Unkempt hair stuck out from underneath a worn out baseball cap that he wore backwards. A loose, white t-shirt hung on him like on a hanger. He leaned down to pick up a compact that had landed by his sneaker. She snagged it from his  hand when he offered it to her, and his brows raised in a mix of confusion and concern. 

He grabbed the cigarette that hung from his lips and held it between his fingers. 

"You look like you could use one," he commented, searching for a pack in his gray joggers. When he found it, he extended it to her so she could grab one.

"Fuck off!" she snapped before she could bite her tongue. "Just—just leave me be."

The man raised his hands, taking a step away. 

"Fine, geez."

He stared at her like she was crazy before he walked off.

Warm tears of frustration blurred her vision as she shoved all of her stuff back into her bag. She snatched the keys and the lip gloss from beside the tire and unlocked the car. She hurled the bag onto the passenger's seat. It hit the door with a thud and slumped to the floor.

She climbed into the driver's seat, at first struggling to put the keys into the ignition. She wiped her face with her palm, then dried it on her pants. Her fist slammed the wheel, and the horn blared in the quiet parking lot. But it wasn't enough, so she hit it again. Harder. Hard enough to feel the pain.

She was so stupid to have come here. She should have listened to her mother. "It's a waste of time," her mother had said, "It's dangerous. Why would you even want to talk to someone like him? Why would you want him to know what you look like?"

She had no idea what she'd even expected from this. For him to look into her eyes and say sorry? To hear him say he regretted killing her brother? 

Hearing that wouldn't change anything. Bradley would still be dead, buried six feet underground, and in just a few months, the man who murdered him would walk out of prison—full life ahead of him. She would never forgive Daniel for taking Brad away from her. 

After all, ten years was all he got. Ten years for a life that should have lasted sixty more. This wasn't justice. Not even close.

But what she couldn't wrap her mind around—the thing that gnawed at her more than the court's failure—was Daniel himself. Why would he say something like that to her? To hurt her? To play some sick game? Wasn't it enough that he'd taken Bradley? He had to torment her now, too?

Daniel Navarro was a piece of shit. She'd always known that. She just hadn't realized how messed up he truly was.