A clock struck two. Serena stood alone in the near-empty station. The small line of sleepy passengers slowly shuffled aboard the bus bound for Little Rock.  He was late. She'd called him and left a hysterical message on his phone telling him he'd better come. He always came when she called even though he would never change and probably wouldn't even try to stop her from leaving. Wishing was futile, but the desire to see him again, to feel his embrace, felt like it would kill her. Now he'd never know. This was his last chance. 

Long after midnight Serena had laid in bed, her eyes wide open. Theirs had always been a tempestuous love, and although she knew better, Serena enjoyed the tumultuous ride. Until she was late. An unanticipated emotional punch. Finally, she dragged herself into the bathroom. She felt certain it was true even before the second line came into view. As she dropped the stick into the trashcan, she made up her mind. 

Ben's car hiccuped to a stop in the deserted dockyards. Moored shipping containers loomed like lonely spirits in the night. Damn it, Serena hadn't refilled his tank. He punched the broken gas gauge on the dash and nervously checked the time on his phone. Frank would kill him if he was late. 1:27 am. Three minutes and still a mile away from the drop. His grandmother's words rang in his head, "nothing good ever happens in the bubble, the bewitching hours after midnight." He stuffed the brown package into the back of his pants, opened the door and set off at a sprint down the desolate road.

Ben arrived lungs burning. A dark figure walked out from behind a shipping container. 

"Where's Frank?"

"Frank left because you were late. Said it's kinda a bad habbit of yours. Apparently, this was your last chance."

Ben staggered backward and wobbled before his head hit the asphalt. Two more large men roughly turned him over and removed the package. Ben tried to get up but he couldn't. In the haze of pain and dizziness, he saw a bright blur and heard a plucky tune lying on the ground in front of him. Serena. Why was she calling him so late? Love suddenly overwhelmed him. He didn't care about dying, only losing her love. He reached out, but a large boot crushed the phone.

Ben lifted his head and looked down the barrel of the gun in his face.

"Frank insists on no loose ends." 

Heaving a sigh, Serena blocked Ben's number, erased his contact from her phone, picked up her duffle bag and climbed onto the bus.