Sawyer carefully removes the small device and holds it up. “It’s magnetic. Easy to attach, designed to be hidden. Hard to spot unless you’re looking for it.”
I stare at the tracker in his hand. It’s smaller than I expected, just a little black box that’s been following me everywhere I go. Every coffee run, every trip to the store, every moment I thought I was free.
“How long do you think it’s been there?”
“Hard to say. Could be weeks, could be months.” He stands up, still holding the device.
"Could the flat tire be..." I can't finish the sentence. Can't say it out loud.
But Sawyer understands. “I don't know. Maybe. I'll check it more carefully back at the station. Do you know who would want to track your location?”
The answer is obvious. Saying it out loud makes it real.
Lance.
It makes sense now.
But I'm not ready for that conversation yet. "I'm not sure." But suddenly everything makes sense. How he's able to show up wherever I am. All those times I thought I was being paranoid, thought I was imagining things. I wasn't crazy after all.
Sawyer nods grimly. “These things are easy to place. Takes about ten seconds if you know where to put it. Could’ve been while you were at work, at home, anywhere you parked for more than a minute.”
The thought makes me feel sick. All this time, I thought I was safe. I thought moving to Pine Hollows meant Lance couldn’t find me. But he’s been watching every move I make.
That time I thought I saw his truck outside the grocery store. I told myself I was being paranoid.
I wasn't paranoid. He was really there.
“What do I do?” My voice comes out smaller than I intended.
“Well first, we finish changing your tire. But then we need to talk about filing a report.”
“A report?”
“Alicat, this is stalking. Someone tracking your location without your consent is illegal.”
My hands start shaking, and I adjust my glasses again. “Won’t people think I’m just being crazy?”
“No.” Sawyer’s voice is firm, certain. “This isn’t overreacting. This is someone violating your privacy and potentially putting you in danger. There’s no telling what he’s planning to do with this information.”
He turns back to the tire, working quickly to get the spare on. I stand there holding the tracker, feeling violated. Every trip to the grocery store. Every visit to Madison's. Every moment I thought I was alone.
He was watching. Always watching.
“There,” Sawyer says, lowering the jack. “That should get you to work and back. You’ll need to get a new tire soon though.”
“Thank you.” My voice sounds small, defeated.
I meet his eyes, and there's something steady there. Safe.
“This isn’t your fault. You understand that, right?”
I nod, even though part of me wonders what I did to deserve this. What I did wrong.
Nothing. The answer is nothing. This is all Lance.
“We’re going to handle this. But I need you to be completely honest with me about what’s been going on. Can you do that?”
“Yeah.” The words feel like a promise I'm not sure I can keep, but I want to try.
