We had been driving on the highway for several hours. He was irritated, barely spoke, and I tried not to start any conversations — lately, he had changed, become someone else. When the fuel gauge got close to empty, we pulled into the nearest gas station.
My husband got out, and I stayed in the car. A minute later, a man in a blue uniform came up to the window and politely asked me to step out to sign the receipt. I took the paper from his hand — and immediately noticed it wasn’t a receipt.
On the note, it was written clearly and simply:
“Run away from him. Say you’re going to the bathroom — and go. Quickly.” 😨
At first, I thought it was a bad joke.
But when I looked up at the man in uniform, he slightly shook his head and glanced toward my husband. At that moment, I understood exactly what he meant — and terrified, I ran away. At that moment, I noticed something: there was a stain on my husband’s sleeve that looked like blood.
And in the trunk, which he had just opened, there were red marks as well. My heart started pounding. I managed to whisper:
— “I… I’m going to the bathroom.”
He nodded without looking at me.
I walked calmly toward the station building, trying not to show my fear. Inside, the same attendant was already waiting for me — with a phone in his hand. He whispered:
— “We called the police.
Don’t go back to the car.”
A few minutes later, the gas station was surrounded by patrol cars. My husband was arrested right next to the pump, and I still couldn’t believe this was happening to me. Later, the same attendant approached me and quietly said:
— “A few days ago, I saw him here again.
He was with another woman.”
Then he added:
— “I recognized her later on the news. She went missing.”
And at that moment, I realized: that night, the same fate awaited me.
