I threw the bus in park, opened the heavy doors, and hurried across the pavement toward the back of the idling garbage truck.
“Excuse me!” I called out, my voice shaking.
Silas turned, his heavy work boots crunching on the asphalt. His eyes were dark, tired, and unreadable.
“I need help,” I stammered, pointing down the street. “That girl walking up the driveway… she posted a video online saying she’s home alone today. And that black car has been sitting there watching her house. I think someone is waiting for her.”
I braced myself for him to shrug me off. I expected him to tell me it wasn’t his problem, or to just tell me to call the police and leave him out of it. People don’t want to get involved these days.
Silas didn’t say a single word.
He just looked at Kinsley reaching her front door, then locked his eyes on the idling sedan. He dropped the heavy trash can he was holding. He didn’t run, but his strides were long, heavy, and deliberate.
