I don’t know why I answered the way I did. I had a dollar, but my head was shaking no. “I’m sorry. I don’t,” I said, turning back to my car.

The man moved fast.

One hand shot out and his fingers caught in my hair. I let out a startled shriek as my head was jerked back. I acted out of instinct, and I started to swing my bag at him, but I froze—stopped moving, stopped breathing. For a split second, I didn’t believe what I was seeing. I couldn’t even process it, but it was real and it was right there.

He held a gun an inch from my face.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, mouth drying.

“Don’t move,” the man ordered. “Just give me your purse and you aren’t going to get hurt.”

I immediately lifted my purse, fully prepared to give him every cent I had on me, right along with the credit cards. Pain flashed across my scalp as he shoved my head forward. Thrown off-balance, I stumbled to the side and. too panicked to catch myself, I fell to the ground.

My knees scraped off the rough pavement, tearing open a scream. A harsh grunt of air exploded out of my lungs as the panic erupted like a bomb inside me.

“God dammit!” the man spat. “I told you not to move.”

“I-I didn’t mean to.” I reached for my purse and in my hurry, the contents fell out, scattering across the ground. I reached for my wallet. “Here! Take it. You can take it.”

Clenching the gun in one hand, he ripped the wallet out of my hand. I stayed where I was, not daring to move. Bile rose swiftly into my throat. I was going to be sick. I was going—

“Only sixty dollars? That’s all, bitch?”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “I-I’m sorry. That’s all I have. That’s—”

“Give me your car keys.” The end of the barrel grazed my cheek, and I nearly vomited. “Now.”

Falling forward, I dragged my hand across the pavement, skimming over the tiny, plastic bottle of perfume and the beaded coin purse my vovó gave me for Christmas a couple of years back, before she passed away. My fingers brushed over the thin chain of the necklace I’d stashed in my purse—the gift I hadn’t given Brock. I found the keys, snatching them off the ground. With a shaky hand and my heart pounding against my ribs, I lifted them up to the man. “H-Here.”

He ripped the keys out of my hand and started to back up rapidly, the gun still pointed in my direction. I didn’t dare move. I held my breath, praying that he’d leave, that I would walk away—

Several things happened next.