Judy's knuckles turn white as she clenches the steering wheel of her Chevy C20, navigating the treacherous roads of the Blue Ridge Parkway. For six grueling months, she has poured her heart and soul into helping her friend Dean, who sits beside her, sell his company for a staggering six-figure sum. As tears slip from her eyes, she wipes them away, determined to maintain her composure.
"We're almost there, Dean. You can rest now; you've earned it," she says, her voice a mixture of pride and exhaustion.
Dean's gaze remains fixed on his feet, his hands buried deep within the confines of his tattered hoodie. "I don't need rest, Jude. I just need my money. Why can't we go to the bank now? What's the point of this excursion”? His tone is reminiscent of a child desperately yearning for the return of a confiscated video game.
"I told you, son, when you win big like this, you’ve gotta celebrate. Make it special." Judy carefully glances at Dean, extending an arm to pat his shoulders. He recoils at the sensation, creating a chasm between them as he retreats to the edge of his seat.
"Don't touch me. I've already got a mom," Dean snaps, pulling his hood over his head and turning his body towards the window. Judy retracts her hand, fresh tears now cascading down her face. In her fifty years on Earth, she has endured the pain of two miscarriages and a divorce. The last few months with Dean have been the closest she's ever come to experiencing motherhood. Taking a deep breath, she pulls off to the side of the road and turns to face him.
"I certainly would've taught you better manners. How can you be so cruel after everything I've done for you? What's going on with you?”
Dean remains silent, his body rigid with defiance.
"We're not moving another inch until you talk to me," Judy declares, her voice a mixture of frustration and concern.
He shifts in his seat but refuses to face her. "I didn't even want to go on this stupid trip," he mutters under his breath.
In a swift motion, Judy snatches the keys from the ignition and throws them into the cup holder. "Well, this trip is the only way you're getting that money. Start talking, Dean."
At this, Dean snaps his head towards Judy, his eyes filled with a ravenous and piercing intensity. "They told me not to trust you," he hisses, his hands fumbling for something in his pocket.
Judy's fingers desperately grope for her seatbelt, desperate to exit the truck. "They? Who are they? What are you talking about, Dean? It's just you and me here." Finally freeing herself from the restraint, she reaches for the door handle. Just as she is about to open it, the ominous click of a gun being cocked freezes her in place.
"Don't move, Judy. Put your hands on the wheel." Dean's voice is cold and commanding.
Slowly, Judy turns her head towards him, her arms raised in surrender. "Okay, Dean, I won't move. I promise. You mean the world to me; snap out of it. We can figure this out together."
Dean turns his head, murmuring into the air as if engaged in a conversation with an unseen entity. "She's... my friend... my partner. I shouldn't... I can't."
Seizing the moment of distraction, Judy lunges for the gun.
A single shot pierces the air, shattering the silence of the Blue Ridge Parkway.