They stayed because they were scared.

Because they feared what would happen to them if their escape plan failed. That it would be worse than their current situation. And it could always get worse.

In this case, “worse” means Josh doing something rash and hurting not just her but also Marge and Officer Tom in the process. And this has nothing to do with them.

This is between her and Josh.

Because of that, it’s best to get out of the diner and back in the car, where she’s the only one in danger. Sometimes you can’t simultaneously be smart, brave, and careful. Sometimes you need to choose one.

By following Josh to the door, Charlie’s choosing bravery.

When she reaches the dessert case, still lit and lazily spinning, Officer Tom calls out to her from his spot at the counter.

“You forgot your backpack, miss.”

“Oh, my goodness,” Charlie says, hoping it sounds authentic. “Thank you.”

She returns to the booth and grabs the backpack she’d left there on purpose. Then, after an over-the-shoulder glance to make sure Marge and Officer Tom aren’t looking, she snatches the steak knife from the table and stuffs it into a pocket of her coat.

MIDNIGHT

INT. GRAND AM—NIGHT

Charlie watches the diner recede in the Grand Am’s side mirror—a blur of chrome and neon that’s soon replaced by night sky, moonlight, and the ghost-gray trees crowding the edge of the road. They’ve reentered the middle of nowhere. Just the two of them.

They ride in silence, both of them facing forward, their eyes fixed on the sweep of headlights brightening the road ahead. Charlie has no idea if they’re heading toward the interstate or away from it. Not that it matters. She already assumes that wherever they’re going, it’s definitely not Ohio. And that there’ll be no coming back from this.

“How much do you know?” Josh says after they’ve traveled a mile without another car or building in sight.

“Everything,” Charlie says.

Josh nods, unsurprised. “I figured as much. Why’d you get back in the car?”

“Because I had to.”

It really is that simple. Charlie couldn’t risk letting Josh do something to Marge or Officer Tom. And she certainly couldn’t let him leave on his own, where he could do the same things he did to Maddy to someone else. So now she’s here, sitting next to a killer.

Call it fate.

Call it karma.

Whatever it is, she understands she needs to be the one to stop Josh. It’s her duty and hers alone.

That doesn’t make her any less frightened. She’s more scared now than she’s been the entire car ride. Because now she knows the stakes.

Stop Josh from getting away, or die trying.

The problem is that Charlie doesn’t know how, exactly, she should try to stop him. She sits with her hand thrust deep in her coat pocket, her fingers curling and uncurling around the handle of the steak knife. Part of her is tempted to attack Josh now and just get it over with. She doesn’t because the idea of stabbing someone—literally thrusting a knife into another human body—frightens her as much as thinking about what Josh might try to do to her.

“Most people wouldn’t have done that,” he says.

“I guess that makes me plucky.”

Josh chuckles at that. When he looks Charlie’s way, it’s with what she can only discern as admiration.

“Yes, you are certainly that.” He pauses, as if debating whether he should say what’s on his mind, ultimately deciding to just go for it. “I like you, Charlie. That’s what’s so fucked-up about all this. I like talking to you.”

“You like lying to me,” Charlie says. “There’s a big difference.”

“You got me there. I told you a lot of things that weren’t true. I won’t deny that.”

“Like your name being Josh.”

“That’s one of them, yes. My real name is Jake Collins. But you already knew that.”

Charlie nods. She did. Even at the height of Josh’s mind games, a small part of her knew she was right about that.

“Your real name. Your real driver’s license. That game of Twenty Questions. Why did you let me think I’d imagined all of that?”

“Because I needed to keep you in the car,” Josh says. “You looked like you were about to bolt, so I came up with something on the fly. I guess it worked.”

That it did. And Charlie feels stupid and angry with herself for believing it, even though she shouldn’t. It’s not stupid to want to believe the best in people. You shouldn’t get mad at yourself for thinking someone is good and not inherently evil.

“Is there anything you told me tonight that is true?” she says.

“That story about my mom. That’s all true. She left on Halloween just like I said. I haven’t told too many people about that.”

“Why did you tell me?”

“Because I like talking to you,” Josh says. “That wasn’t a lie, either.”

Inside her coat pocket, Charlie’s fingers continue to clench and unclench around the knife handle. Earlier, they did the same thing around the handle of the passenger-side door. Once eager for escape, now eager for a fight.

But Josh shows no sign of giving it to her. He simply drives, unhurried, ready to say something else he’s unsure about.

“My dad always blamed me for my mom leaving,” he says. “He said it was my fault. Right up until the day he died.”

“Another thing you lied about.”

“Not really,” Josh says. “He did have a stroke. It’s what killed him. And I would have dropped everything to take care of him, if I’d needed to. Even though he hated me and, well, I guess I hated him.”

“Because he blamed you for what your mom did?” Charlie says.

Josh shakes his head. “No. Because he convinced me to blame myself. It didn’t matter that my mother chose to leave all on her own. I thought it was because of me. I still do.”

Charlie knows that feeling all too well. So heavy and cumbersome and exhausting that she would do anything to rid herself of it.

Even die.

She knows because she almost did. Not tonight. Before that. Four days before.

“I almost killed myself,” she says.

The words surprise Josh. They surprise Charlie even more. She’s never admitted it before. Not even to herself.

“Why?” Josh says, shock still potent in his voice. Charlie notices something else there, too—a note of concern.

“Because I wanted the guilt to go away.”

“So that’s why you accepted a ride from a stranger.”

“Yes,” Charlie says. “That’s exactly why.”

Josh stays silent a moment, thinking. “How did it happen?”

“Accidental overdose,” Charlie says. “Sleeping pills.”

They were the little white pills, prescribed to offset the restlessness brought on by the little orange ones. Charlie hadn’t taken many, preferring to spend her nights indulging in revenge fantasies that bore zero resemblance to the real-life one she’s now experiencing.

But then came the night in which the human-shaped blank she normally fought was replaced by a mirror image of herself. It startled her so much that she put a movie into the VCR, crawled into bed, and downed a handful of little white pills.

She told herself that she just needed to sleep.

That it was just a coincidence the VHS tape she picked was Singin’ in the Rain, which she once told Maddy was the last movie she wanted to see before she died because it was as close to heaven as any film could get.

Charlie continued to lie to herself even after her body rebelled and she threw up the pills and then flushed the meager few that remained down the toilet. She let herself think every excuse in the book. She was too tired to know what she was doing. She wasn’t thinking straight. It was all an unfortunate accident.

That’s the real reason she needed to leave Olyphant immediately. Why she couldn’t wait until Thanksgiving or when Robbie was free. Why she went to the ride board and put up that flyer and jumped at the chance to share a ride with Josh.

Charlie was afraid that if nothing changed, she’d experience another unfortunate accident, this time with a different result.

But as the shame and sadness of that morning come back to her, she knows the truth.

None of it was accidental.

For a brief, soul-shaking moment, she would have preferred to die than spend one more minute weighed down by her guilt.

Now, though, she wants to live. More than anything.

“I’m glad that didn’t happen,” Josh says. “And I’m sorry we didn’t get to meet under different circumstances. I think I would have liked that.”