Chapter 17

The man stood at the edge of the clearing, his face half-hidden in the shadows of the early morning light. Miel's heart pounded in her chest, her hand already reaching for the gun tucked under the seat. Jasmine's fingers twitched, her breath shaky as she glanced between Miel and Nina, silently waiting for the next move.

Nina's grip tightened on the steering wheel, her knuckles turning white. "He's alone," she muttered, almost to herself, her eyes never leaving the man. "But that doesn't mean we're safe."

The man smirked, taking another step closer. "Didn't think I'd see you again so soon, did you?" His voice was casual, almost mocking, as if they were having a normal conversation and not a dangerous standoff.

"What do you want?" Miel's voice was firm, though every instinct screamed at her to get out of the car, to run. But she couldn't. They had nowhere to go, no clear escape without risking everything.

The man shrugged. "Like I said before, just shelter. I've got nowhere to go, and neither do you. So how about we make a deal?"

Miel exchanged a quick glance with Nina. Jasmine shifted uneasily in her seat, her hand resting protectively on Maxwell, who had started growling again, low and dangerous.

Nina's voice was cold, deliberate. "We don't make deals with people we don't know."

The man chuckled, but there was no warmth in it. "Is that so? Seems to me you don't have much of a choice." His gaze flicked over the car, lingering for a moment on Miel, then Jasmine. "You're running from something, aren't you? People like us... we're not so different. I figure we could help each other."

Miel felt a chill crawl up her spine. The way he said it—people like us—made it clear that he knew more than he was letting on. He wasn't just some drifter. He was either running from something himself or he had a much darker agenda.

"We don't need your help," Miel said sharply, trying to keep her voice steady. "Just walk away. This doesn't have to get ugly."

The man's smile faded, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I don't want trouble, but you're making it hard to avoid." He paused, scanning the clearing. "Look, I'm just trying to survive. Same as you. I have information—information that could keep us all alive. You turn me away now, you'll regret it."

Miel's heart raced. She could sense the unspoken threat hanging in the air, but something about the man's tone caught her attention. Information. If he knew something that could help them stay one step ahead of the police, they couldn't afford to dismiss him outright. But could they trust him?

Nina cut the engine, her expression unreadable as she studied the man. "What kind of information?"

The man's smirk returned. "Let's just say I've got eyes and ears in places you don't. I know the area, know how the law works out here. You're being hunted, right? You need to know who's hunting you. And more importantly, how to stay off their radar."

Jasmine's breath hitched beside Miel, her eyes widening. "How do you know that?"

The man shrugged. "You learn to recognize the signs. You're too careful, too nervous. And you have that look in your eyes—like you're always waiting for something to go wrong. I've been there."

Miel exchanged a quick glance with Nina. The man wasn't wrong. They were running out of time, and the police were closing in, whether they admitted it or not. If this stranger had valuable information, they couldn't afford to dismiss him so easily. But trusting him blindly could be just as dangerous.

"What do you want in return?" Miel asked, her voice cautious.

The man tilted his head, considering her question. "A place to lay low for a few days, and some food. I don't need much. Just enough to stay off the radar myself."

Nina's jaw clenched, clearly weighing the options in her mind. She was always the pragmatist, the one who calculated risks before acting. "What's your name?" she asked finally, her voice sharp.

The man hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Call me Simon."

Miel could see the doubt in Nina's eyes, the unspoken calculation of whether to trust him or not. After a long pause, Nina finally spoke. "Fine. You can stay for now. But if you try anything—anything—I won't hesitate to put a bullet in you."

Simon's smirk returned. "Fair enough."

---

Back in the cabin, the atmosphere was thick with tension. Miel watched Simon closely as he settled into one of the worn chairs, his movements deliberate but calm. Jasmine remained by the window, her eyes darting back and forth as she kept watch. Nina, meanwhile, was in the kitchen, rifling through the sparse supplies to prepare a meal.

Simon glanced around the cabin, his eyes lingering on the duffel bag of cash in the corner. "You've done well for yourselves," he remarked, his voice casual. "But that money won't do you much good if you're dead."

Miel tensed, her fingers twitching toward the gun again. "We don't need your commentary."

He raised his hands in mock surrender. "Just stating facts. You're on the run, and that much cash is a liability. Every place you go, every person you meet, they're a risk. Sooner or later, someone will give you up."

Miel's jaw tightened. "What do you know?"

Simon leaned back, his gaze steady on hers. "The cops are closer than you think. They've got an idea of where you've been hiding, and they're working their way through old hideouts, abandoned cabins like this one. It won't be long before they find you."

Jasmine let out a soft gasp, her fingers curling around the edge of the windowsill. "How do you know?"

Simon's expression darkened. "Because I've been in your shoes before. They're relentless when they've got a scent. The only way to survive is to keep moving, stay unpredictable. And right now? You're stuck. This place might seem safe for now, but it's a trap. You've got maybe a day, two at most, before they catch up."

Miel's pulse quickened, the weight of his words sinking in. She could see the truth in what he was saying. They had been playing a dangerous game, staying one step ahead of the law, but now, they were running out of room to maneuver. If they didn't act fast, they'd be caught, and everything they had fought for—everything they had risked—would be lost.

Nina set down a plate of food in front of Simon, her expression hard. "What do you suggest?"

Simon took a bite, savoring the food before responding. "You need to get out of this area entirely. Go where they won't think to look for you. And you need new identities, new everything."

Miel's stomach churned. They had already changed their appearances, already tried to disappear into the shadows. How much more could they alter before they lost themselves entirely?

Jasmine, still standing by the window, turned to face them. "We have to go. We can't wait any longer."

Miel nodded slowly, her mind racing with the possibilities. "Where do we go?"

Simon's eyes gleamed. "I have a contact. Someone who can get you new papers, a new life. But it won't be cheap. You'll have to trust me."

Nina's eyes narrowed. "Why are you helping us? What do you get out of this?"

Simon's smirk returned. "Like I said, I've been where you are. Sometimes, you just want to see someone else make it out."

Miel wasn't sure whether to believe him or not, but they had no other options. The clock was ticking, and if they didn't act fast, their fate was sealed.

"Let's go," Miel said, her voice resolute. "We leave tonight."