We lay there shivering in the ditch watching the headlights pass. Paranoia has a way of gripping people by the throat when they’re on the run. In our wrong-headedness every car became a threat. If not a police cruiser, then surely a nosey older couple who knew this neighborhood and everyone in it as well as the blue veins and sun-spots on the backs of their pale hands. How youthfully naïve to only fear those who would send us home to our worried parents, for the night is much more sinister than that to two young girls running from home.