Tuesday morning arrived with an unusual stillness in the air. Becky sat on the edge of her bed, staring at her phone. It was 6:30 a.m., and Freen’s father had left the house half an hour ago. According to Nam, he had taken his car and headed toward the city. The window was open.
Becky’s heart raced, but she forced herself to focus. There was no room for error today. She showered quickly and dressed in her usual jeans and a hoodie, keeping her movements deliberate and calm. By the time she stepped into the kitchen, her mother was already busy.
“You sure you’re ready for this, sweetheart?” her mother asked, flipping pancakes onto a plate.
Becky gave her a tight smile. “I have to be.”
Her mother placed the pancakes on the table and touched Becky’s shoulder gently. “You’re doing a good thing. Just be careful.”
“I will.”
With that, Becky grabbed her bag, stuffed with supplies she might need, and left the house.
---
8:45 a.m.
Nam stood across the street from Freen’s house, leaning casually against a lamppost with her phone in hand. To any passerby, she looked like she was just waiting for a friend. But her sharp eyes never left the front of Freen’s house.
Inside, Freen was pacing her room. Her small suitcase sat on the bed, open but mostly empty. She felt like she was suffocating, the weight of the morning pressing down on her.
Kate and Nop arrived first, slipping through the side gate that Becky had scouted days ago. They moved quickly and quietly, entering through the back door that Freen had unlocked for them earlier.
“Freen,” Kate whispered as she stepped into the room. “You ready?”
Freen nodded, though her hands trembled.
“Let’s pack,” Nop said, his voice low but urgent.
They moved in sync, stuffing clothes, books, and personal items into the suitcase and two backpacks. Freen hesitated over a small photo frame of her mother, her fingers brushing the glass.
“You can take it,” Kate said gently.
Freen nodded and slipped it into the bag.
---
9:30 a.m.
Becky arrived just as the last bag was zipped shut. She climbed through the same side gate and entered the house quietly. The sight of Freen, pale and tense but resolute, made her chest tighten.
“Hey,” Becky said softly, her voice cutting through the tension.
Freen looked up, her eyes meeting Becky’s. For a moment, everything else fell away.
“You okay?” Becky asked.
Freen nodded. “I just… I’m ready.”
Becky smiled faintly and nodded back. “Let’s go.”
---
The Neighborhood
Mrs. Anya watched from her window, a knowing smile on her lips. She saw Becky and her friends moving quickly but carefully, carrying bags to a car parked down the street. The older woman pulled the curtains slightly and turned away, silently wishing them luck.
Meanwhile, Nam texted updates every five minutes:
“No sign of him.”
“Still clear.”
“Neighbor two houses down just went inside.”
Becky’s phone buzzed, and she read each message with a growing sense of relief.
---
10:15 a.m.
By mid-morning, most of Freen’s belongings were in Becky’s car. The group had worked silently, their movements coordinated and efficient. Freen glanced around her now-bare room, a mix of emotions bubbling inside her.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Freen murmured.
“It is,” Becky said firmly. “You’re almost free.”
Kate placed a hand on Freen’s shoulder. “We’ll take the last load. You just focus on getting yourself out of here.”
Nop nodded in agreement. “We’ve got this.”
Freen hesitated but then nodded, trusting her friends completely.
---
The Escape
The final step was getting Freen out of the house without anyone noticing. Becky had planned this part down to the last detail.
“Put this on,” Becky said, handing Freen a plain baseball cap and a pair of sunglasses. “Keep your head down and walk next to me. Nam’s keeping an eye out.”
Freen obeyed, her heart pounding as they stepped out of the back door. The morning sun was bright, and every sound seemed amplified—the rustle of leaves, the distant bark of a dog, the faint hum of a car engine.
Nam was stationed at the corner of the street, her posture relaxed but her eyes sharp. She gave a subtle nod as Becky and Freen approached.
“You’re good,” Nam whispered as they passed.
Becky led Freen to the car, where her mother was waiting in the driver’s seat.
“Get in,” Becky said, opening the back door.
Freen slid in, her breath shaky. Becky climbed in after her, glancing back toward the house one last time.
---
10:45 a.m.: Safe Haven
Becky’s house was a haven of calm compared to the tension they’d just left behind. Becky’s mother ushered Freen inside, her warm smile putting the younger girl at ease.
“You’re safe now,” her mother said gently, guiding Freen to the kitchen. “Let me make you something to eat.”
Freen nodded, her shoulders relaxing slightly for the first time all morning.
Kate and Nop arrived soon after, carrying the last of Freen’s belongings.
“That’s everything,” Kate said, setting the bags down in the living room.
“Good work,” Becky said, clapping her friend on the shoulder.
---
The Promise
Later that afternoon, as Freen sat on the couch sipping tea, Becky joined her.
“How are you feeling?” Becky asked.
Freen looked at her, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Relieved. Scared. But… mostly relieved.”
Becky reached out, taking Freen’s hand in hers. “You don’t have to go back. Ever. I promise.”
Freen squeezed Becky’s hand, her eyes glistening with gratitude.
For the first time in a long while, Freen felt a flicker of hope.
---
Outside
Across the street, a neighbor stood on their porch, watching the activity at Becky’s house. They frowned, their curiosity piqued.
Back at Freen’s house, a car pulled into the driveway. Freen’s father stepped out, his sharp gaze scanning the empty yard.
Something wasn’t right.
The house was too quiet. Too empty.
The game wasn’t over yet.
YOU ARE READING
A Gentle Collision
ActionBecky is an 18-year-old introvert whose sharp words cut deeper than her silence. Living with her kind-hearted mother in a modest home supported by their family's restaurant, Becky has little interest in the world beyond her headphones and mobile scr...
