She was just an eighteen-year-old girl with a calculus textbook and a dream, working the late shift at a lonely highway stop. But when three entitled boys stumbled in, they saw a target, not a person, forcing a collision between her quiet dignity and their casual, brutal cruelty. The fluorescent lights of the roadside convenience store hummed a tired, electric song, a sound that vibrated in the bones and settled in the soul like dust. It was the anthem of 11:30 p.m. on a Tuesday, a lonely sound