Chapter 23 - 22: Too Late to Apologize
The car sliced through the quiet night, wind rushing in through the open windows. Neon lights blurred past, streaks of red and white reflecting off wet pavement. The city pulsed with life even at this hour—distant sirens, the occasional honk, the hum of streetlights overhead.
Franz had one hand on the wheel, the other fishing out a cigarette from the dashboard.
Click. Flame. Inhale. Exhale.
The radio played softly at first, the familiar piano notes creeping in under the rush of the wind.
"I’m holding on your rope, got me ten feet off the ground~"
Franz tapped the wheel, his voice low and lazy as he sang along.
"And I’m hearing what you say, but I just can’t make a sound~"
Then, with perfect timing—
He floored the gas.