This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    As the car comes to a halt, he steps out and, like some cheap romance movie, opens the door for me. I step out, used to this routine, and take my phone out, acting like I’m busy.


    “Mom’s in the hospital. They need me there now. I have to go,” I say, keeping my tone shaky enough to sound genuine.


    The old man’s face shifts, confusion crossing his features. I offer a quick, apologetic smile, and then step toward him, throwing my arms around him for a hug. “I’m really sorry, I have to go,” I say, making sure he buys it. He nods, his face softening as he tells me to be safe. He doesn’t even question it. They never do.


    “This trick always works,” I mutter under my breath.