We walked toward the parking garage, Mehar chattering happily about which outfit she’d wear first, and I kept my hand in my purse. On my phone. Ready to call Prime if something felt wrong.
We made it to the car. Loaded the bags in the back. I pulled out of the parking spot and headed for the exit.
That’s when I saw the car behind us.
Black SUV. Tinted windows. Too close.
I turned right out of the garage. The SUV turned right.
I switched lanes. The SUV switched lanes.
“Zainab?” Mehar’s voice had gone tight. “Is that car following us?”
I looked in the rearview mirror. The sedan was one car length behind us. Close enough that I could see the driver’s silhouette.
Close enough to know this wasn’t paranoia.
“Hold on.” I gripped the steering wheel tighter. “And put on your seatbelt.”
Zoo
I almost missed her.
Keisha had been in my ear all goddamn afternoon—“Baby, let’s go to Sephora,” “Baby, I want those shoes,” “Baby, why aren’t you paying attention to me?”—and I was two seconds from telling her to shut the fuck up when I saw her.
Across the food court. Getting smoothies with some other woman I didn’t recognize.
My son’s killer’s mother.
The bitch who raised that little murderer. Who helped him cover up what he did. Who packed up her apartment and disappeared like Nigel’s life didn’t mean shit.
I reached for my phone, ignoring Keisha’s whining about some necklace she wanted. Snapped a picture. Sent it to Brandi.
Me:Is this her?
Three dots. Then:
Brandi:That’s her. That’s the bitch.
Brandi:Make her suffer.
Brandi:For Nigel.
My jaw tightened. I could still see my son’s face. Still hear his voice. Still feel the weight of his casket as I helped carry it to the grave.
This woman was living her life. Shopping. Laughing. Drinking fucking smoothies while my boy rotted in the ground.
Not for long.
“Baby, are you even listening to me?” Keisha tugged at my arm, pouting those overlined lips. “I said I want to go to?—”
“Something came up.” I was already moving, eyes locked on Zahara across the food court. “Find your own way home.”
“What?” Keisha’s voice pitched up to that register that made dogs howl. “You can’t just LEAVE me here! How am I supposed to?—”
“Uber. Bus. I don’t give a fuck.” I didn’t look back. “Figure it out.”
“ZOO! Are you serious right now? ZOO!”
