“Please Trust Me,” the Driver Said as He Hid Me in the Trunk on My Son’s Wedding Day.

the rougher texture of neighborhood streets. I felt every bump, every pothole. When we finally stopped, Blake said, “This neighborhood is… I mean, Natasha’s friends usually live in…” He trailed off because he knew what I knew—Natasha’s circle lived in gated communities with tree-lined streets, not here.

“I’ll be right back,” Blake said, and I heard continue reading …