It was early morning, Austin Highway.  She was wearing shorts and a short top, revealing her bare pregnant belly.

He was tall, big, wearing a grey hoodie.  He was holding her right arm behind her back.

I parked close enough to determine whether or not they were playing.  Close enough to see a look of fear on her face.

They stood there for several light changes, then they began to walk toward the nearby bus stop in the Target shopping center, he still squeezing her arm behind her back.

I followed at a distance while calling 911.  When the hoody man spotted me, he left her and came running toward the car screaming and cursing at me.  I pulled away but not before shouting back, "Leave her alone!"

I drove away and then back to see if the police had arrived.   When I saw the police talking to the young woman (by then the man had walked away in the opposite direction), I pulled into Valero to ask the police if she was okay.

"Yeah, she's fine," is all he said--after a one-minute interview with her through his window.

I wondered how many women are in situations in which they are covering for men--more afraid of the man than the police.  I wondered if he was the father of her baby. `  I wondered if she might be involved in trafficking.  I wondered, "Where is her mother?"  Does she have anyone to call?

I will never know.  But I do know--Jan just told me--that San Antonio has been named the "most dangerous" city in Texas for women.

That young woman may not even know there is a better way to live.  Her mother may have lived the same scenario.  It may seem normal to her.

All my inner alarms sounded, but there was nothing I could do. And unless she finds safety enough to admit what's going on, there is nothing anyone can do.