I stopped to help a woman who was dy//ing on the side of the road and lost my job because I arrived late, but when I returned to collect my things from my desk, my entire life was about to change.

I turned away so abruptly that my bag nearly slipped from my shoulder.

Behind me, a chair scraped against the floor.

Then came silence.

I left the office that had consumed so much of my life and stepped into the bright morning sunlight, feeling as though I’d been expelled from the future I’d worked so hard to build.

Inside my car, I locked the doors.

I gripped the steering wheel.

Then I screamed.

It wasn’t a sentence or even a recognizable word.

It was the sound of frustration, grief, and fear breaking through at once.

I had no idea that the stranger I’d helped earlier that morning would soon arrive at my workplace looking for me.

And I certainly didn’t know what her arrival would uncover.

Part 2 — A Stranger on Route 18

For almost twenty minutes after being fired, I remained inside my parked car.

People crossed the parking lot carrying coffee, chatting on their phones, and rushing toward meetings that still mattered.