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SNATCHED

SNATCHED

“Where is Mr. Walker?” Beatrice ask when I show up half an hour later alone and looking like my professor just asked me to drop him off in the middle of the road and i obliged.

Because he didn’t ask. He demanded. Darn me and my stupid submission thing.

“He asked me to let him out of the car in the middle of the road.” I answer.

I blink, my vision becomes steadier. I find four pairs of eyes staring at me.

“What?”

“Why?”

“And you did?”

They bombard me with the questions I asked myself on the ride here. And I still have no answer to them. So I shrug.

“Did you guys fight?”

“No. We were having an actual conversation, and he suddenly demanded I stop the car. Even when I asked the reason, he would not talk to me.”

“That is strange.”

“Worse than strange. And this place is foreign to him. What if he gets lost?”

“He's thirty years old Beatrice. I’m certain he can find his way.”

She shrugs but still looks disturbed, I feel disturbed as well. Maybe
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