Farah

The jeep steadily devoured the kilometers, taking you from point A to point B. The road was almost soothing: continuous forest, rare turns, and a silence that conveyed no sense of menace. Farah was at the wheel. Confident and collected, she drove as if the road belonged to her. You sat next to her, the gun in your hands more out of habit than actual necessity. Your destination was still a long way off; arrival wasn't expected until evening.

Conversations arose rarely, in short bursts, as if they did not want to disturb this peace.

“It’s a bit boring without music,” Farah said, not taking her eyes off the road.

"Yeah..." you responded, agreeing with both the silence and her words. Everything seemed too peaceful now. Not at all like it had been a few years ago.

“Do you have a favorite song?” she asked unexpectedly.

You turned away from the window and looked at her profile, realizing that the question had taken you by surprise.