Nothing Owed

"Let go! What are you doing?" Stella struggled.

She was dragged to the car. The car was small and narrow, tightly sealed, and it stank.

She had just shouted when her mouth was covered again. A moment later, a three-wheeled truck carrying a chicken coop drove past Stella's van. The assistant, who was playing with her phone with her head lowered, glanced at the vehicle with a disdainful expression.