Skirting the Rothaar mountains, the BMW glided on the road like a prowling huntress. “Two kilometres from your destination,” the satnav told Lina as they approached the Achenbach estate.
The auto-drive in control, she gazed at the jagged canopy of trees. The tranquil moonlit silhouette worked with the neural blockers she had taken, making her feel dreamy. She embraced the trance-like state. Without the pills, she’d be in convulsions travelling this road again. The memories of that night eight months ago never far below the surface.