My husband and I stopped to refuel when the gas station attendant came up to me and handed me a note: “Run away from him, say you’re going to the bathroom, and leave…” 

We had been driving on the highway for several hours. He was irritated, barely spoke, and I tried not to start any conversations — lately, he had changed, become someone else.

When the fuel gauge got close to empty, we pulled into the nearest gas station. My husband got out, and I stayed in the car.

A minute later, a man in a blue uniform came up to the window and politely asked me to step out to sign the receipt.

I took the paper from his hand — and immediately noticed it wasn’t a receipt. On the note, it was written clearly and simply:

“Run away from him. Say you’re going to the bathroom — and go. Quickly.” 

At first, I thought it was a bad joke. But when I looked up at the man in uniform, he slightly shook his head and glanced toward my husband. At that moment, I understood exactly what he meant — and terrified, I ran away. 
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At that moment, I noticed something: there was a stain on my husband’s sleeve that looked like blood.

And in the trunk, which he had just opened, there were red marks as well.

My heart started pounding. I managed to whisper:

— “I… I’m going to the bathroom.”

He nodded without looking at me. I walked calmly toward the station building, trying not to show my fear.

Inside, the same attendant was already waiting for me — with a phone in his hand.

He whispered:
— “We called the police. Don’t go back to the car.”

A few minutes later, the gas station was surrounded by patrol cars. My husband was arrested right next to the pump, and I still couldn’t believe this was happening to me.

Later, the same attendant approached me and quietly said:
— “A few days ago, I saw him here again. He was with another woman.”

Then he added:
— “I recognized her later on the news. She went missing.”

And at that moment, I realized: that night, the same fate awaited me.