THE WOMAN ON THE BRIDGE

They called a tow truck, but it would take forty minutes.

Hannah sat inside her car while Cole waited beside his motorcycle.

Twenty minutes later, a black sedan appeared at the far end of the bridge.

It slowed down.

Then stopped.

Cole immediately noticed the damaged side mirror.

It was missing.

He looked at the plastic fragment in his hand.

Then at the sedan.

The driver suddenly reversed.

Cole stepped toward his motorcycle.

Hannah opened the car door.

“Cole?”

“Stay inside.”

The sedan accelerated backward, turned sharply, and disappeared down the opposite road.

Cole memorized the license plate.

Then his phone rang.

It was Maya.

He answered.

“Hey.”

Her voice sounded worried.

“Where are you?”

“On the river bridge.”

A pause.

“Why?”

Cole looked toward the road where the sedan had disappeared.

“Helping someone.”

Maya exhaled.

“Of course you are.”

There was a strange warmth in her voice.

Cole looked toward Hannah.

“What's wrong?”

“I heard something from the investigators.”

Cole's expression changed.

“What?”

“The man they're looking for isn't working alone.”

Cole went silent.

Maya continued.

“They found another name connected to the company records.”

Cole looked at the black sedan disappearing into the distance.

“Send me the name.”

“I already did.”

Cole checked his phone.

A message appeared.

One name.

Marcus Vale.

Cole stared at the screen.

Hannah walked toward him.

“Who is it?”

Cole looked at her.

Then at the damaged motorcycle helmet in his hand.

“I think the person who killed your brother just came back.”

Hannah's face went pale.

And somewhere in the darkness behind them, a motorcycle engine suddenly roared to life.