الصوت المشترك

The wind howled across the пуст, endless stretch of asphalt like it had something to confess—but no one left alive to hear it. I remember gripping the steering wheel tighter than I should’ve, knuckles pale, heart beating like a damn drum in my chest. Out here in the Nevada desert, miles away from anything that resembled civilization, you start to feel it—that creeping sensation that maybe… just maybe… you’re not alone. “My name’s Daniel Carter… and if you’re hearing this, then I probably didn’t