A Journalist and a Singer [h.s]

Epilogue, Part 2.

No POV:

Six months later.

"Okay, good. Stay there until I can get you further instructions." John says into his phone. It's midday and Los Angeles traffic is at its peak. "I don't know their next move, but it won't be good, nonetheless."

"John, why of all places would you tell me to stay in Los Angeles? There's too many people here. It's too crowded." a voice on the other end of the phone speaks up.

"Good, you'll blend right in." John says, hanging up the phone.

Getting away from the city and reaching longer stretches of roads, John relaxes, setting his phone in the cup holder and turning on the radio. An hour goes by, and then another.

The article that has a chokehold on the internet has been running through his mind. He wished that he could tell her. He doesn't pretend to know how hard it's been on her, with not checking in as much and all. He just doesn't know how to tell her and keep her safe at the same time. Plus, he's been told not to tell anyone. Not until it's dire.

So John keeps driving. The road gets lonely, something scarce in California. Then that's when he heard the ticking noise.

He took his foot off the gas and slammed the break, but it was too late.

Boom.

/////

Thank you all so very much for being so patient with me for taking literal years to get this out, but I finally got my mojo back and I could not be more excited. I cannot believe this story is finished!

Or so you think...