Chapter 2 - Eyes in the Rearview
Clara slammed the car into reverse, the tires kicking up a spray of crushed gravel as she whipped out into the suburban street. Her heart hammered violently against her ribs, each pulse roaring in her ears. She glanced down at the glowing phone screen on the passenger seat. The photo was taken from the rooftop of the house across the street—a vantage point that clearly showed her running toward her car, clutching her modest handbag. Whoever was watching had seen everything.
She turned sharply onto the main avenue, watching her rearview mirror with obsessive intensity. A nondescript dark sedan pulled out from two blocks back, matching her speed. Was Mark that organized? He was erratic, narcissistic, and prone to violent outbursts, but he was rarely this calculated. Or had he paid someone to monitor her every move, anticipating that she might finally break? Her fingers gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned bone white.
Taking three erratic turns through a quiet residential neighborhood, she confirmed her worst fear: the sedan mirrored every movement, maintaining an unnerving, deliberate distance. She couldn't go to her sister's house; bringing danger to Sarah’s doorstep was out of the question. She couldn't check into a hotel under her real name. She needed somewhere crowded, noisy, and labyrinthine. Clara swerved sharply toward the freeway on-ramp, deliberately cutting off a delivery truck to create a buffer. As the truck blared its horn, she merged into the sea of highway traffic, but the phone vibrated again. A single sentence appeared on the lock screen: Turn off the highway at Exit 14, or he will reach you before the state line.
