"I'm not going in there," Becky said, gripping the steering wheel tighter, knuckles whitening.
The gates stood open, iron bars gleaming under the sun. The naked man waited at a patient distance, hands clasped loosely in front of him, completely unbothered.
"Bala said you'd do the talking," she continued, voice tight. "I'll wait in the car."
"I'm not going without my partner," I said. I reached down, grabbed the hem of my shirt, and pulled it off in one smooth motion. Cool air hit my chest as I tossed it into the back seat.
She went quiet, the specific silence of someone who had run out of arguments and was now staring at the consequences.
