A turn signal clicks, a steady, lonely metronome for the missing. On a quiet county road, a sedan idles, its door ajar. The interior light casts a milky glow, warm air still breathing from the vents as the radio whispers static. Just moments before, the driver paid for gas, a routine stop confirmed by the clerk. A few verified minutes pass. Then, nothing. No struggle on the gravel, no sign of d...
