Chapter 11

11

While I'm driving home, I notice the dark-green sedan. I'm not the sort of person who would ordinarily notice a car trailing me. For all I know, every time I have left the house for the last decade, there has been someone following me. But lately, I am on high alert. Plus, the car has a pair of dice hanging from the rearview mirror, which makes it recognizable even from a few car lengths back.

For the first fifteen minutes of the drive, I try to convince myself it's all a coincidence. Yes, a green car with dice hanging from the rearview mirror is riding my bumper at every turn. But that doesn't mean they're following me. Maybe they're just coincidentally going to the exact same place that I'm going.

Then I get creative. I'm only about five minutes away from my house, but instead of swinging left at the light to get home, I turn right. I check my rearview mirror, blessedly dice free, to see if the green car is still there or if they have turned in a different direction. But there it is—the green car, still behind me.

I signal to turn left, but instead take another right. Again, I check the mirror after the turn. Those white dice with the black spots are swinging behind me.

I take another right. And another.

I have now done a complete circle, yet the car with the dice in the window is still behind me. This can't be a coincidence anymore. There is no way another car just decided to take a turn around an entire block. Whoever is in the green sedan is definitely following me.

I reach over to press the button to lock all the doors on my Lexus as I skid to a stop at another crimson light. I raise my eyes to look in my rearview mirror, adjusting it slightly so that I can see directly through the windshield of the car behind me.

The dice sway slightly. The driver of the car is wearing a large pair of black sunglasses that obscure half his face, although I can plainly see that he is a man with dark-blond hair and chiseled features. Just like my husband.

And then he takes off his sunglasses. Our eyes meet in my rearview mirror. His are clear and blue and achingly familiar. They are Grant's eyes. I have never been so sure of anything in my life.

A loud honk blasts me out of my thoughts. The light has turned green, and somebody behind me is angry that I have waited a single millisecond before taking my foot off the brake. I move through the green light, my head spinning. I make it another half a block, and then I pull over on the side of the road. I check the rearview mirror, expecting to see the green sedan pulling over behind me.

But it is not there. I shift my entire body around, trying to get a good look out the back window. The car is gone. It was behind me for almost twenty minutes, and the second I confirmed that it was following me and was almost positive the man behind the wheel was my husband, the car took off.

I don't understand what's going on. But one way or another, I am getting to the bottom of this.