Kian

It’s been two weeks since that awful incident with Verena happened. I’d lived in fear, moved in with my parents until it felt safe to come out. 

Safe. 

That was what I believed until the last two nights.  I pulled over at the gas station, stepped down to fuel my tank only to get attacked by this biker. The struggle that followed ended with me having several stab wounds. 

It was only when he heard the wail of the police siren, that he got on his bike and fled. If it weren’t for that intervention, I would have ended up dead. 

And that tattoo on the attacker’s arm, it...