parking lot and sees a family going into the Wendy’s. The father and mother hold the hands of the two-year-old
girl. Laila watches this and knows there is some meaningful and melancholy thought attached to this image somewhere deep inside
her, but she has managed to keep it down in the hidden well far underneath the grime and the gunk in the seeping waters of
yesterday. There is no emotion swelling inside of her. She knows what the picture is and what it could mean. To her it’s just
a picture of another life and another existence. The same way that family might look at a fashion magazine and see an image
that is real but which is a pure fantasy, a delusion, a fairy tale.
The fantasy and fairy tale do exist. But they come with a price.
She glances at her watch and isn’t sure why. It’s not the time that bothers her. It’s the nagging feeling that if she stays
still for too long, someone will catch up to her. So she gets back in the SUV encased in Alabaster Silver Metallic paint and
starts it up.
It’s just a moment.
A second in the span of twenty-seven years.
Back on the road, she switches to the left lane and rolls to a stop at a red light. As she waits to drive down the street
a hundred yards or so and turn onto the exit to the interstate, she glances at the car next to her.
And sees him.
The face of death. With blood still on it. The same lifeless, soulless eyes staring at her. The gashes still there from her
nails. His teeth smiling. His hand waving.
Laila turns around and then looks again at the car next to her. It’s him. It’s the pale figure of Connor resting behind a
wheel waving and leering at her.
She jams her foot on the gas and heads out without looking.
A car horn blares next to her as a vehicle veers out of the intersection to avoid her.
She continues ahead and looks in her mirror to see the car.
But she can’t see it.
On the interstate, driving ninety miles an hour, she tries to slow down her breathing. She puts a hand on her chest and can
feel the beating.
She shakes her head and tries to wave this off.
She didn’t just see that.
She imagined it just like the other things she’s imagined.
Yet she continues to look in her mirror at the cars she passes and at the seat behind her.
Just in case.
• • •
“Is this Kyle Ewing?”
“Yeah.”
“Kyle, my name is Lex Torres. I’m Laila’s brother.”
There is silence, and Lex asks if he’s still there.
“What’s this about?”
“I got some information from the bank that said you recently saw Laila.”
“Who told you that?”
“I’m just looking for my sister. She called me yesterday and sounded like she was in trouble.”
“I don’t know anything about that.”
“Is there a chance we could just talk?”
“No.”
“That was quick.”
“Why do you want to talk?”
“I just want to see if you know anything about where she might be.”
“I don’t have a clue.”
“Is she in trouble?”
“How do I know this is really her brother?”
“If we meet, I can prove it to you.”
“I bet you can.”
“No, look, I’m serious,” Lex says.
“I just—I don’t know anything about her, okay? She works at the bank. That’s all I know. And she was supposed to come in to
work today, and she didn’t. Did you try her apartment?”
“Yes. Nobody’s there.”
“Well, then you can wait for her. I’m sure she’ll be coming back anytime.”
Lex listens to the silence that follows and clicks off his cell.
Getting to this point was really easy, a lot easier than Lex thought it would be. He tracked the number she had called him
from to her apartment, where he spoke to the manager. The guy let him into her apartment, but they didn’t find much. It looked
like she had taken off with the few things she brought here. Besides discovering that she worked at the bank, Lex didn’t gain
any more insight on where Laila might be or why she was in Greenville in the first
girl. Laila watches this and knows there is some meaningful and melancholy thought attached to this image somewhere deep inside
her, but she has managed to keep it down in the hidden well far underneath the grime and the gunk in the seeping waters of
yesterday. There is no emotion swelling inside of her. She knows what the picture is and what it could mean. To her it’s just
a picture of another life and another existence. The same way that family might look at a fashion magazine and see an image
that is real but which is a pure fantasy, a delusion, a fairy tale.
The fantasy and fairy tale do exist. But they come with a price.
She glances at her watch and isn’t sure why. It’s not the time that bothers her. It’s the nagging feeling that if she stays
still for too long, someone will catch up to her. So she gets back in the SUV encased in Alabaster Silver Metallic paint and
starts it up.
It’s just a moment.
A second in the span of twenty-seven years.
Back on the road, she switches to the left lane and rolls to a stop at a red light. As she waits to drive down the street
a hundred yards or so and turn onto the exit to the interstate, she glances at the car next to her.
And sees him.
The face of death. With blood still on it. The same lifeless, soulless eyes staring at her. The gashes still there from her
nails. His teeth smiling. His hand waving.
Laila turns around and then looks again at the car next to her. It’s him. It’s the pale figure of Connor resting behind a
wheel waving and leering at her.
She jams her foot on the gas and heads out without looking.
A car horn blares next to her as a vehicle veers out of the intersection to avoid her.
She continues ahead and looks in her mirror to see the car.
But she can’t see it.
On the interstate, driving ninety miles an hour, she tries to slow down her breathing. She puts a hand on her chest and can
feel the beating.
She shakes her head and tries to wave this off.
She didn’t just see that.
She imagined it just like the other things she’s imagined.
Yet she continues to look in her mirror at the cars she passes and at the seat behind her.
Just in case.
• • •
“Is this Kyle Ewing?”
“Yeah.”
“Kyle, my name is Lex Torres. I’m Laila’s brother.”
There is silence, and Lex asks if he’s still there.
“What’s this about?”
“I got some information from the bank that said you recently saw Laila.”
“Who told you that?”
“I’m just looking for my sister. She called me yesterday and sounded like she was in trouble.”
“I don’t know anything about that.”
“Is there a chance we could just talk?”
“No.”
“That was quick.”
“Why do you want to talk?”
“I just want to see if you know anything about where she might be.”
“I don’t have a clue.”
“Is she in trouble?”
“How do I know this is really her brother?”
“If we meet, I can prove it to you.”
“I bet you can.”
“No, look, I’m serious,” Lex says.
“I just—I don’t know anything about her, okay? She works at the bank. That’s all I know. And she was supposed to come in to
work today, and she didn’t. Did you try her apartment?”
“Yes. Nobody’s there.”
“Well, then you can wait for her. I’m sure she’ll be coming back anytime.”
Lex listens to the silence that follows and clicks off his cell.
Getting to this point was really easy, a lot easier than Lex thought it would be. He tracked the number she had called him
from to her apartment, where he spoke to the manager. The guy let him into her apartment, but they didn’t find much. It looked
like she had taken off with the few things she brought here. Besides discovering that she worked at the bank, Lex didn’t gain
any more insight on where Laila might be or why she was in Greenville in the first
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