When The Tesla Called

came at 10 PM, shattering the illu

d. The registered owner, Ryan

ping my heart, only to find hi

other's widow, was clutching his ha

the chilling truth: "There was no collision. Mr. Scott

exacerbated by "strenu

and obscene; the pieces clicked i

't a ca

was

his

wealth, my education, my ambitions, all to p

th

"bad shellfish" and needing me to pick

razenly displaying a high-heeled shoe and a torn silk

k game was ab

nd, quietly appeared at the im

h your family. I t

cold, clear, and