“I’m not that hungry, I had candy after school.”
I look up. She’s still at the window, staring down at the street with a blank expression. Dani is at that age where she can’t stop asking questions.Why don’t dogs have families?andHow come we can’t have pancakes for dinner?She hasn’t been this quiet in months and the sight is a bit unnerving. “Dani? Where did you get—”
“Mama,” she interrupts. “Why is that man waiting outside?”
A bolt of fear cuts straight to my heart.
“What man?” I make my way to her side, and that’s when I see what she’s staring at: on the street, directly outside our building, is a black SUV. From this distance, and the way the sun is reflecting off the glass, it’s impossible to make out the driver’s face—panic twists my insides, and my legs feel weak. “Dani, honey…” My jaw is tight as I force my voice to remain calm. “Get away from the window.”
But instead of backing away, my daughter raises a hand to the glass and smiles.
I watch in horror for a moment before instinct takes hold and I sweep her into my arms and away from the window. “You listen to me when I tell you to do something.”
Dani squirms in my arms. “Stop it—what are you doing? It’s the gummy bear man!”
I freeze. Set her down, as slowly, the realization hits me.I had candy after school.“Dani…who is that man?”
“He said he’s your friend. He said you’d be mad if we didn’t give you some too.” From her pocket she reveals another small pack of gummy bears with a folded piece of paper taped to the side. Myhands shake as I unfold it to reveal a typed note:Stay away from my family and I will stay away from yours.
My stomach plummets. I grab my phone to dial the police, but by the time I return to the window to write down the license plate, the car is gone.
—
I hardly sleepthat night and can barely function the next morning. At work, all I can think about is the man outside our window: I didn’t get a good look at him, but it had to have been Matthew…or someone he sent to intimidate us.
Last night, when I called the station, the detective took my statement over the phone and had me file a report. I was so panicked it was hard to remember what he looked like, and all Dani could recall was that he was “tall” and had “whitish skin.” I have an appointment to speak with them in person tomorrow.
After supervising the construction on a new section of the gallery, I don’t leave work until after dark, and on the train home, I can barely keep my eyes open. I’m conjuring up the image of the man outside our window, trying to picture his face, when the rattling of the seat makes me jerk upright. There’s no one else in the car. Outside, I read the sign for Broadway Junction—shoot,I must have fallen asleep and missed my stop.
As I exit the train, I remember the article I’d read about this station being one to avoid at night, and the unfamiliar surroundings make me nervous. I’m crossing over to the opposite platform, which is dark and empty, to wait for the next train when I hear someone behind me, but when I glance over my shoulder, no one is there.
I pull my keys from my purse to hold between my knuckles as I walk quickly to the other platform. I’ve only seen one other person out here, and he didn’t look like someone I wanted to talk to.
As I’m trying to calculate the amount of time it’ll take to get home, movement in my periphery draws my attention. I turn, but the platform is empty, an abandoned newspaper floating by—maybe that’s all it was.
But then, a noise: footsteps, approaching fast. And what happens next happens too fast for me to react: a heavy weight hits myshoulders, a body tight against mine, arms straitjacketing me, squeezing the air from my lungs. Matthew.
My blood spikes with adrenaline as I fight him, twisting around, but he’s too strong.
Matthew curses under his breath and grabs both of my shoulders. “What is wrong with you?”
I firm my jaw. Look him in the eye. “I’m going to tell them.” His fingers dig into my skin. I can’t move. “I’m going to tell them what you did.” I inhale sharply. “I already told Sara, the other day, when I saw her on my way to work.” It’s a lie, but by the way his expression falters, it looks like it had the desired effect.
His voice lowers. “Stay the hell away from her.”
He points at my face and instinctively I reach up and shove his hand away.
He lunges forward in response, and I shrink back. He’s forcing me toward the edge of the platform. Panic floods my system. “What are you—”
Two lights in the distance. The platform shakes with an incoming train. It feels like the whole world is rattling. My body. The inside of my skull.
“Stop!” I yell, struggling to tear away, but he doesn’t let go. “Help!” But I don’t have enough air in my lungs to shout.
“Shut up,” he commands. But I fight harder, shoving him with all my strength.
I slip from his grasp and stumble back, look down as my foot slips off the edge of the platform.
“This is your fault,” he hisses, and before I know what is happening, he grabs me. His hands wrap around me, fingers digging into my throat and, suddenly, I can’t. Breathe.
