My feet slam the asphalt. Punching my arms with each stride, I squeeze my fists. I’m sprinting. This is no run. This is a chase.
I check my phone. He hasn’t called me back.
Cars whip past on the highway to my right. The building ahead of me isn’t getting closer fast enough. I glue my eyes forward. I can’t see anyone I know. Not now. I can’t explain what I…
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