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Anges checked her watch. Nine p.m. She had been waiting three hours for the owner of the Civic to show, and he still hadn't arrived. Law Enforcement had yet to appear as well, and it was starting to get cold.

With a sigh, Anges pulled out her phone and moved around to get reception. It took a little while, considering the old road she was on. But she finally found three small bars and dialed her older brother's number, crossing her fingers in silent hope that he wasn't too ignorant to notice the phone ringing.

"I'm a little busy." Dylan said, irritated, when he answered the call. "Hey, where are you, anyways? I've been waiting on that pizza for hours now."

"I was in an accident, you numbskull." Anges growled into the phone. "Something ran me off the road and I hit some hick's Civic. It's been hours and he still hasn't showed. I need you to come and pick me up."

"Hicks don't drive Civics." Dylan said rationally. "And, if you're fine with leaving the crime scene, then why don't you just drive yourself home? I can't lose this fight."

"I can't." Anges admitted, wiping her jacket sleeve across her nose as she sniffled. "The car stalled, and I can't get the damn thing to start up no matter what I do."

There was a pause before Dylan answered. 'Wait, are you crying?" he taunted, his laughter ringing through the call. "Just wait a few more minutes, you crybaby, and then call me back if he's not there."

"I'm not crying, you miserable dick!" Anges shouted at him. "It's literally freezing out here, and the temperature's only going to get colder. So please, just shut up about the video games and get your stupid ass out here before I freeze to death."

"Sheesh, sorry." Anges could feel Dylan rolling his eyes at her. "I'll come and pick you up. Where are you?"

So Anges gave him directions and ended the call, not wanting to waste what little battery she had. She threaded her arms together tightly and held her jacket close to her chest in an attempt to keep warm until Dylan arrived. She hadn't been out in the cold for long, so she probably wouldn't have frostbite, right?

Headlights broke the darkness ahead of her, and Anges breathed a sigh of relief. There was no way it was already Dylan, so it had to be the owner of the Civic. God, he had taken his time, hadn't he?

"Excuse me," Anges said, when he got closer, "I think I might have hit your car, if this is your Civic."

He didn't answer, and Anges took a step back when she found him getting a little too close for her liking.

"Sir, what are you doing?" Anges asked him.

Once more, he didn't answer, and Anges turned around to run away, only to find a hand gripping her jacket tightly.

Five minutes later, when Dylan pulled up, he stepped out of the car expecting to see Anges. Or perhaps the car, turned on and waiting for his arrival. What he wasn't expecting was an empty shoulder, devoid of any kind of life, be it human or animal.

Neither the hick's Civic nor his sister's truck were present, and Anges herself was nowhere in sight.

The only thing he could find was her gray cardigan, discarded in a pile of leaves.

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