“Take my money. Just don’t shoot.”
“Shut up and drive, mister.”
She reminded me of my daughter. “If you’re in trouble, maybe I can help.”
“Sure, help me get to where I’m going and be quiet.”
An hour later, she saw a place to eat. “Pull over.”
Confused, I stopped in the parking lot.
She jumped out, put her gun in her backpack, and held out a ten. “That should cover the gas.”
“What?”
“I hitchhike a lot. Just trying to stay safe.”