This isn't about being a hero.
Alice is in real danger.
And he's not going to get near her again.
Not while I'm around.
Chapter 19
Alice
IwakeupFridaymorningthinking about Lance showing up at the library. I barely slept. Every sound outside made me tense up—car doors, footsteps, the neighbor's dog barking. Every noise made me wonder if he was out there, watching.
By the time I get to work, I’m tired and jumpy. Nora notices right away.
“You look like you didn’t sleep,” she says, unlocking her station. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, just one of those nights,” I say, settling into my chair and immediately adjusting my glasses.
But I can’t focus. Every time the door chimes, I expect to see Lance walking in. The morning drags with routine transactions and small talk. I keep checking my phone even though there’s nothing there. I thought I was over this. I thought moving to Pine Hollows would be enough distance.
Clearly, I was wrong.
Around noon, I get a text from Sawyer.
Sawyer: Coffee break? I’m at Cozy Cup.
I grab my purse and tell Nora I’m taking my lunch break. Maybe seeing Sawyer will help me feel normal again. Even for a little bit.
The drive to Cozy Cup is short, but I find myself checking my rearview mirror more than usual.Is that car following me? How long has it been behind me?I push my glasses up and force myself to breathe.
When I get to Cozy Cup, Sawyer's already watching the door. Like he knew I'd be checking over my shoulder.
“Hey,” I say, sliding into the chair across from him.
“Hey yourself. You look tired.”
“Thanks. That’s exactly what every woman wants to hear.”
He grins. “I meant you look like you didn’t get any sleep. Big difference.”
I’m smiling despite myself.
“Rough night?”
I shrug. I don’t want to admit that Lance kept me awake. That would mean admitting he still has power over me, and I’m not ready for that conversation. “Just couldn’t turn my brain off.”
Diane appears at our table with a white mocha before I even order. “Your usual.”
“Thanks, Ms. Diane.”
She smiles, placing her hand on Sawyer’s shoulder before making her way back to the counter. I wrap my hands around the warm mug, letting the heat ground me.
“How’s the coffee?” Sawyer asks.
“Perfect. I needed this.” I take a sip. “It’s been a long morning.”
Before he can respond, the door chimes again, and I look up to see my mother walking in.
