All it took was one ride, and I was obsessed. Now, every day I watch. Waiting. My obsession's oblivious to my machinations. She doesn't know that my life's been fueled by anger and vengeance. Until today. My fixation takes a twisted turn when Oaklyn needs to hitch another ride. How unfortunate she doesn't know this could be her last ride--ever. Yet the more I know, the more torn I am. She's different from them but not nearly enough. I cannot ignore how my ire rises with each layer she strips away. So why is her pain a balm to my tortured mind? Her tragedy is a siren's call to my dark, wicked soul.