the day that she was being
followed.
She
picked up a children’s book and pretended to read the back cover, as she
contemplated the best course of action. A glance out of the corner of her eye
revealed that the man was nowhere in sight. It had to be my vivid
imagination playing tricks on me again, she chided herself.
After
she had located the shortest line, she drummed her fingers on the cart with
impatience. When the line finally moved, she grabbed a giant jar of salad dressing
to place onto the conveyor belt but froze with the jar in mid-air when she
glanced toward the food court and caught sight of a blond haired woman in a
trench coat. Her back was to Sarah, so her face was undetectable, but it was
too much of a coincidence for Sarah’s peace of mind.
She
silently willed the cashier to move faster, and as soon as he handed her the
receipt, she thanked him and headed for the exit. As she passed the table, on
the way to the door, she noticed that the blond haired woman had been joined by
a man in a trench coat. Their backs were to her, and she still couldn’t see
their faces.
Sarah
had stopped to stare and realized that, in doing so, she was holding up the
flow of customers who were in line to exit the store. She pushed her cart off
to the side, took out her phone, and pretended to send a text while she
considered her options. After a minute of deliberation, she decided that she
wasn’t mentally prepared for any sort of confrontation and continued on. She
resisted the urge to look back and kept her sights on the exit.
The sky
began to spit miniscule snowflakes as she walked toward the truck. Her hands
shook—not from the cold but from nerves—as she all but threw the boxes from the
cart into the back of the truck. Without wasting time to return the cart, to
the cart corral, she left it beside the truck, jumped into the front seat, and
made a beeline for the exit.
Before
she turned onto the street, she checked her rearview mirror to see if she was
being followed, but there was no one behind her. Maybe her overactive imagination
had played tricks on her after all.
It
wasn’t until she had exited the freeway and was headed down the quiet highway
to Granite Falls that she was able to relax. Another check in the mirror
revealed an aging, red minivan but no one else. She breathed a sigh of relief
and shook her head at her excitable state of mind. Obviously no one had followed
her.
She
adjusted the volume on her favorite radio station and turned her thoughts back
to her morning visitors. Why would they claim that she was in danger unless it
were true? What could they possibly have to gain from her involvement? They
hadn’t asked for money, so it wasn’t like they would benefit financially. She
drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. Was it possible that there was an
ounce of truth behind their story?
For a
few moments, she noted the evergreen trees, fields of horses, and occasional
houses. Then her surroundings became indiscernible as she replayed their
conversation in her head. But after reviewing everything they had told her, she
was drawn back to her original conclusion. “They must have had the wrong
person.” She spoke out loud but found that her fears weren’t suppressed. She
couldn’t unleash the feeling that she was being followed. She began to doubt
herself and wondered, not for the first time, if it had been a mistake to send
Eddie and Liliana away.
“But,
why would anyone want to find me?” she asked herself, out loud. “What purpose
could they possibly have?”
They
want to find you, so they can get to me , the voice in her head replied.
The
truck swerved dangerously close to the ditch, on the side of the road. With a
racing pulse, Sarah realized that she had crossed the white line and quickly
straightened her course. For a minute she focused to keep the truck between the
lines, but soon her thoughts wandered as she thought about the voice.
She took
her left hand off of the steering wheel
followed.
She
picked up a children’s book and pretended to read the back cover, as she
contemplated the best course of action. A glance out of the corner of her eye
revealed that the man was nowhere in sight. It had to be my vivid
imagination playing tricks on me again, she chided herself.
After
she had located the shortest line, she drummed her fingers on the cart with
impatience. When the line finally moved, she grabbed a giant jar of salad dressing
to place onto the conveyor belt but froze with the jar in mid-air when she
glanced toward the food court and caught sight of a blond haired woman in a
trench coat. Her back was to Sarah, so her face was undetectable, but it was
too much of a coincidence for Sarah’s peace of mind.
She
silently willed the cashier to move faster, and as soon as he handed her the
receipt, she thanked him and headed for the exit. As she passed the table, on
the way to the door, she noticed that the blond haired woman had been joined by
a man in a trench coat. Their backs were to her, and she still couldn’t see
their faces.
Sarah
had stopped to stare and realized that, in doing so, she was holding up the
flow of customers who were in line to exit the store. She pushed her cart off
to the side, took out her phone, and pretended to send a text while she
considered her options. After a minute of deliberation, she decided that she
wasn’t mentally prepared for any sort of confrontation and continued on. She
resisted the urge to look back and kept her sights on the exit.
The sky
began to spit miniscule snowflakes as she walked toward the truck. Her hands
shook—not from the cold but from nerves—as she all but threw the boxes from the
cart into the back of the truck. Without wasting time to return the cart, to
the cart corral, she left it beside the truck, jumped into the front seat, and
made a beeline for the exit.
Before
she turned onto the street, she checked her rearview mirror to see if she was
being followed, but there was no one behind her. Maybe her overactive imagination
had played tricks on her after all.
It
wasn’t until she had exited the freeway and was headed down the quiet highway
to Granite Falls that she was able to relax. Another check in the mirror
revealed an aging, red minivan but no one else. She breathed a sigh of relief
and shook her head at her excitable state of mind. Obviously no one had followed
her.
She
adjusted the volume on her favorite radio station and turned her thoughts back
to her morning visitors. Why would they claim that she was in danger unless it
were true? What could they possibly have to gain from her involvement? They
hadn’t asked for money, so it wasn’t like they would benefit financially. She
drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. Was it possible that there was an
ounce of truth behind their story?
For a
few moments, she noted the evergreen trees, fields of horses, and occasional
houses. Then her surroundings became indiscernible as she replayed their
conversation in her head. But after reviewing everything they had told her, she
was drawn back to her original conclusion. “They must have had the wrong
person.” She spoke out loud but found that her fears weren’t suppressed. She
couldn’t unleash the feeling that she was being followed. She began to doubt
herself and wondered, not for the first time, if it had been a mistake to send
Eddie and Liliana away.
“But,
why would anyone want to find me?” she asked herself, out loud. “What purpose
could they possibly have?”
They
want to find you, so they can get to me , the voice in her head replied.
The
truck swerved dangerously close to the ditch, on the side of the road. With a
racing pulse, Sarah realized that she had crossed the white line and quickly
straightened her course. For a minute she focused to keep the truck between the
lines, but soon her thoughts wandered as she thought about the voice.
She took
her left hand off of the steering wheel
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