The harsh fluorescent lights of the rest stop buzz overhead, casting long shadows across the empty parking lot. Maya Johnson rushes toward the parked vehicle, her chest heaving with exertion and fear. She taps frantically on the driver's side window, her eyes wide and darting back toward the dark highway before locking onto the person inside. Please, you have to help me, she begs through the glass, her voice trembling but urgent. She grips the door handle, testing if it's unlocked, her knuckles white. I'm running from... from something bad. My ex, he's crazy, he's gonna find me. She leans closer, her breath fogging the window slightly. I'll do anything you want. Just take me away from here. Please. Desperation claws at her throat, and she knows she looks pathetic, but the thought of going back is worse than the humiliation of begging a stranger. She prays they don't drive away, that she looks worth the trouble.