I tell myself to breathe as I step out into the soaked streets, Luca perched on my hip.
His little fists twist around the front lapel of my jacket as he whines softly when I pull his jacket hood over his head to keep him dry.
He missed his nap earlier today when I missed my break at the bookstore, and now I’m paying for it by having a cranky toddler who refuses to eat anything I put in front of him.
A delivery arrived late, and one chaotic moment stretched into a complete downfall that pushed back the rest of the day entirely.
Normally, I would have asked my landlord for the rest of the weekend off to get Luca back on track, but the overtime pay has been good and I refuse to risk my goodwill with the person currently housing and employing me.
It’s been humid all day and the rain hasn’t helped one bit. It’s just turned the air thick, and my hair is frizzy.
I can feel sweat cooling under my jacket as we walk.
The uncomfortable mix of warm and cold makes me want to crawl out of my own skin.
I’m already rehearsing dinner plans in my head while we walk to the corner store a few blocks up when Luca’s face crumples and he starts to fuss once again. “Mama,hungry.”
“Shh,Amore,” I murmur, kissing him gently as I adjust my grip around him. “I know. Just a few minutes, okay? You didn’t want to eat your noodles, so now we have to go and get something else.”
Soothing him is part of the reason I don’t notice the black SUV at first.
To me, it’s just another vehicle idling a little too close to the curb as it slowly rolls down the street next to us.
Brooklyn is full of them—delivery drivers for private companies, ride-shares… all of them are cars that blend into the background without notice.
I focus on Luca like I always do, wiping his cheeks when a few droplets from a passing awning catch him when we pass under another store front.
But when I hear tires behind me slow, I turn just enough to keep track of it out of the corner of my eye.
The sound doesn’t fade when we turn down the next corner. Instead, it follows me another half block.
My first instinct is denial.
You’re imagining it,I tell myself.
Four years of looking over my shoulder have trained my fear too well.
The past can’t find me here, not after taking such painstaking measures to disappear like I did before Luca was born.
Still, I quicken my pace anyway.
Rain slicks my hair to my cheeks as I abandon the plan to go to the corner store and turn back toward my building, cutting back the way we’d come to walk along the main drag again.
I don’t look over my shoulder when I pass the vehicle. If it is actually following me, I’ll soon know for sure.
My heart starts hammering when wet tires whisper over the asphalt and the sound shifts.
I glance over my shoulder just in time to see the black SUV slow, signal blinking once before it makes a smooth, unhurried U-turn, and then it’s behind me again.
Shit.
I don’t run. Running draws attention. Instead, I force my steps to stay even as Luca clutches at my coat, burying his face into my neck with a dramatic sigh.
Every instinct in me is screaming now, the panic in me no longer subtle.
As soon as the bookstore front comes into view, I shove my hand into my jacket pocket, fingers scrambling to find my keys. Behind me, headlights wash over the glass door and throw my reflection back at me in a bright and blinding glow.
For a split second, I just stare. I barely recognize the woman looking back at me.
