And then came the final memory: the look on her face as he rolled down the window that night. He imagined what he saw there was neither fear nor anger—just a calm, hollow distance, as if she’d already decided this was the last time she’d let him humiliate her. He couldn’t really vouch for his memory anymore, though.
In the days that followed, detectives came and went. He showed them call logs, text messages, and receipts. “See?” he said. “I tried to find her.” But they only nodded, jotting notes. Her phone had last pinged near the highway shoulder. After that, there was nothing—it was as if she had vanished into the night.