I started thinking about the café sitting empty downtown, dark and locked up since this afternoon.The burst pipe had been bad—water everywhere, soaking into boxes of supplies, shorting out the outlet near the walk-in cooler. Joanna had sent everyone home by two o'clock.
I was back to work, but I was switching shifts with Joanna, and as the chief, she kept everything in order even while away taking care of Gabrielle. But unfortunately, my shift had been cancelled. I'd been annoyed at the time, wanting the distraction of work, something to keep my hands busy and my mind quiet. Now the coincidence sat strange in my chest, like a stone I couldn't swallow.
"Weird day," Joanna said quietly, like she was thinking the same thing.
"Yeah."
"Pipe's been fine for twenty years. Never had a problem. Then today, out of nowhere—" She shook her head. "Just one of those things, I guess."
I didn't answer. Couldn't shake the crawling feeling at the back of my neck.
"We're almost out of formula," I said finally. "I was going to wait until morning, but Gabrielle's been eating more lately, and if she wakes up hungry?—"
"I'll drive you." Joanna was already standing. "The 24-hour place on Miller Road. I'm not letting you go anywhere alone. Not after this."
I didn't argue.
The grocery store was nearly empty at 11:30 PM.
One cashier, half-asleep behind the register, scrolling through her phone. An old man in the produce section, taking his time like the night stretched on forever. Flickering fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting everything in that sickly yellow glow that made everyone look exhausted.
I had Gabrielle strapped to my chest in her carrier. She'd woken when I lifted her from the bassinet but settled quickly against my warmth, her dark eyes tracking the lights above us with that serious expression she got sometimes. Like she was taking notes on the world.
Joanna grabbed a basket and headed toward the baby aisle. "Formula's this way. What else do you need?"
"Diapers. Maybe some of those overnight ones."
We moved through the store together. But I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. I kept glancing over my shoulder, scanning the empty aisles, looking for shadows that didn't belong. Every sound made me flinch: the rattle of a shopping cart, the thump of produce being stacked, the distant hum of refrigerator cases. I feared for the last person left in my life: Gabrielle.
Joanna noticed. Of course she did. "He's not here, honey. It's the middle of the night in a grocery store. We're okay."
I nodded, but my skin wouldn't stop crawling.
"I'll grab the diapers," I decided to take action, just to distract myself."They're one aisle over. Meet you at the register?"
"Two minutes."
I turned down the baby aisle, scanning for the overnight brand Gabrielle liked. The store was so quiet I could hear my own breathing, could hear Gabrielle's small sighs against my chest. Fluorescent lights hummed. Somewhere, a freezer case clicked on.
That's when I heard his voice.
I knew it instantly.
It came from somewhere near the back of the store. Muffled by distance but unmistakable. That particular cadence. That cruel edge that had lived in my nightmares for years.
Evan’s voice.
My whole body went cold. I pressed myself against the end cap, heart slamming so hard I could feel it in my throat. Gabrielle squirmed against my chest, picking up on my fear, and I placed a hand on her back, willing her to stay quiet.Please, baby. Please don't cry.
He was on the phone and from the sounds of it, he was drunk. He was loud and careless in that way he got when he'd been drinking all day. His alcoholism had long ago stripped away the man I once knew, replacing him with a volatile shadow that lived between the bottle and the edge of a breakdown.
I remembered that voice. Remembered what came after, when the carelessness turned to cruelty. But there was something else underneath tonight. Excitement. Anticipation. The voice of someone watching aplan come together. It was the most terrifying version of him: the addict who had finally found a way to gamble with something more valuable than his own life.
"You there yet?" He paused then: "Good. Remember what I said. Accelerant in the walls first, then the kitchen. Weak points are marked. By the time they figure out it's not a regular fire, the whole thing will be coming down."
My stomach dropped through the floor.
"No, I'm not there. I'm not stupid. I've got an alibi." He laughed, and the sound made bile rise in my throat. "By the time that firefighter boyfriend of hers gets inside, it'll be too late. Hero complex, remember? He'll go straight in when he hears she's trapped."
