I really thought that the past had finally found me.
Clearly, my paranoia has finally reached its peak.
They had probably been lost and were simply looking for directions.
And who better to ask than a mother with her toddler who looked completely certain of the direction they were traveling in?
By the time I reach our apartment, my legs feel like lead.
Maybe the ring was just a trick of the light, a coincidence…
Plenty of men wear gold pinky rings in a signet style these days.
It must have simply been a cruel projection of my memories onto the hand of a stranger who otherwise didn’t seem at all interested in harming me or my child.
Inside, I set Luca down and immediately lock the door, then the deadbolt, and finally, the chain.
My hands won’t stop shaking even as I check them all again and again until I’m nearly cross-eyed.
Luca toddles into the living room, plopping down on the rug with his toys like nothing in the world is wrong.
A part of me is glad for that while another, uglier side of me is jealous of his ignorance.
I drift into my bedroom on autopilot and sink down beside the bed onto the floor.
My fingers slide underneath the frame until they find the lockbox hidden there.
The code is simple.
Muscle memory takes over as I unlock it and flip the lid open.
Inside, a gun lies nestled in a thick velvet cloth.
It’s cold and solid in my hand when I lift it out and weigh it.
I check the safety and the magazine and then raise it, sighting the blank wall behind my bed, steadying my breath until my finger finally stops trembling over the trigger.
I want…needto believe my paranoia got the better of me tonight.
That all of this hadn’t almost come crashing down around me.
But if it didn’t…
If my past really is coming back to haunt me, then this time, I won’t be unprepared.
I refuse to be.
2
ELENA
Later that night, I don’t sleep at all.
I sit on the edge of my bed with the lights off, the rest of my bedroom wrapped in shadows.
The soft hiss of the TV fills the room as Luca is tucked under the covers and curled up against my side like he always is.
The noise from the late-night talk show is only broken up by his small, steady breaths, and it’s the only thing keeping me from pacing around the room like a wild, caged animal.
