The rain had been falling since late morning, steady enough to keep the windshield blurred beneath the sweep of the wipers.
Rylee tightened her hands around the steering wheel.
The clock on the dashboard read 2:17 p.m.
She looked at it again, as if the numbers might somehow tell her what to do.
They didn’t.
Another car passed in the opposite direction, its tires sending a thin sheet of water across the road. Rylee’s eyes immediately went to the rearview mirror.
Nothing.
Just a line of wet pavement behind her, gray beneath a sky that looked like it had forgotten what color it was supposed to be.
She checked again anyway.
Nothing.
Her heart was still beating too fast.
She hated that feeling.
That awful space between knowing something was wrong and not knowing exactly what it was.
A man’s face kept coming back to her.
Not clearly.
That was the problem.
If she’d seen Tyson, really seen him, she would know. There would be no question.
But she hadn’t.
She hadn’t even seen the man herself.
She had only heard about him.
A gentleman had come into Main Street Grill while she was on her lunch break and asked about her.
And Dakota.
That was all.
That was all it took.
Rylee swallowed hard.
“You’re being paranoid,” she whispered.
The words sounded ridiculous coming out of her mouth.
Paranoid.
She had spent two years teaching herself not to panic over every unfamiliar face, every strange car, every phone call from an unknown number. She’d had to learn how to live without constantly looking over her shoulder.
For four months, she’d almost convinced herself she’d finally figured it out.
A new apartment.
A new job.
A new routine.
A daycare where the people knew Dakota by name.
People at Main Street Grill who knew her as Rylee Schmidt and nothing more.
No questions.
No past.
No Tyson.
Just Rylee.
Just Dakota.
Just a life.
She had even started unpacking the boxes.
That was what scared her most now.
She had started believing she could stay.
Rylee blinked and forced her eyes back onto the road.
The daycare was only a few minutes away.
She had left work without finishing her shift. She hadn’t even bothered to explain properly. She’d simply told her coworker she needed to leave, grabbed her purse, and walked out.
Then she’d driven home.
The apartment had looked different when she’d stepped inside.
Not because anything had changed.
Because she had.
Four months ago, she would have grabbed only what she could carry.
Now there were dishes in the cabinet. Clothes in drawers. A half-unpacked box in the living room she’d been meaning to finish for nearly two weeks. Koda’s little dinosaur pajamas were folded on the couch because she’d washed them that morning.
A framed picture of the two of them sat on the kitchen counter.
She’d bought the frame after they moved in.
She’d told herself it was because the picture deserved one.
Really, she’d wanted something on the counter that made the apartment feel like theirs.
She had stood there staring at it for several seconds before the fear won.
She’d grabbed Dakota’s clothes.
His favorite stuffed animal.
A few pairs of his little boys’ underwear, decorated with colorful characters.
A couple of pull-ups for nighttime.
Snacks.
His medicine.
The little backpack he liked carrying even though he was too young to remember half the things she put inside it.
She had already kept a bag of her own things in the trunk.
Just in case.
Always just in case.
Now the bag was joined by a pile of Koda’s belongings, and the trunk of her car carried another reminder that the life she’d been building could disappear in less than an hour.
Rylee took a slow breath.
“You’re okay.”
She glanced toward the back seat.
Dakota wasn’t there.
For one brief, horrible second, her mind hadn’t caught up with the fact that he was still at daycare.
Then she remembered.
She was almost there.
Her foot pressed a little harder against the accelerator.
She had no proof.
No reason to believe the man at the restaurant had been Tyson.
For all she knew, he could have been looking for someone else.
Maybe someone with the same first name.
Maybe someone who had worked there before her.
Maybe it had been nothing.
But Tyson had taught her something she could never completely forget.
Sometimes you don’t get a second chance to find out whether you were wrong.
Rylee turned into the daycare parking lot.
She parked crookedly and didn’t bother fixing it.
Rain tapped against the roof as she shoved open the door and ran inside.
The warmth of the building hit her first.
Then the familiar smell of disinfectant, crayons, and children’s snacks.
“Rylee?”
Miss Jessica looked up from behind the desk.
Her expression changed almost immediately.
“What’s wrong?”
“I need Dakota.”
Miss Jessica straightened.
“Right now?”
“Yes.”
Rylee’s voice came out sharper than she’d intended.
She forced herself to breathe.
“I’m sorry. I just… I need him.”
Miss Jessica studied her face.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yes.”
It was a lie.
Rylee could tell from the look in Miss Jessica’s eyes that she knew it was a lie.
But Miss Jessica didn’t push.
She stood.
“Give me just a second.”
Rylee nodded.
She couldn’t stand still.
Her fingers twisted around the strap of her purse while she looked toward the hallway.
She could hear children laughing somewhere in the back.
A little boy shouted something unintelligible.
Someone laughed.
A toy made a mechanical noise.
It was all so normal.
So painfully normal.
Rylee pressed her lips together.
She wanted to scream at herself.
Stop.
You’re scaring yourself.
You don’t know anything.
But then she remembered the words.
Someone came in asking about me and Dakota.
Not just her.
Dakota too.
Her son.
Miss Jessica returned a moment later, holding Dakota’s little backpack.
“Koda’s getting his shoes on.”
Rylee almost corrected her.
Not because she minded the nickname.
She didn’t.
Koda was what his family called him. What the people who loved him called him.
But right now, hearing it made something twist inside her.
She nodded.
“Thank you.”
Miss Jessica handed her the backpack.
“Do you want me to help you get his things together?”
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
Rylee softened her voice.
“No. Thank you. I’ve got it.”
Miss Jessica’s eyes stayed on her.
“Rylee…”
Rylee looked at her.
For a second, she considered telling her.
Just enough.
Just enough to explain why she was acting crazy.
But what would she say?
Someone asked about me at my job and I think my husband might have found us.
It sounded absurd.
She had spent two years running from a man most people would describe as charming, successful, devoted, and incapable of hurting anyone.
She wasn’t going to make Miss Jessica carry that fear too.
“Thank you for everything you’ve done for us,” Rylee said quietly.
Miss Jessica frowned.
“For you and Dakota.”
Rylee’s throat tightened.
“Thank you.”
She heard little footsteps coming from the hallway.
Then a familiar voice.
“Mommy!”
Rylee turned.
Dakota came running toward her, his blond hair sticking up in the back.
Both of his shoes were on the wrong feet, and he’d buckled them himself, leaving them slightly crooked.
His face lit up when he saw her.
“Mommy!”
Rylee dropped to her knees and caught him.
She hugged him so tightly he made a little surprised sound.
“Hi, baby.”
“Why you here?”
“I missed you.”
“You came early.”
“I did.”
He pulled back and looked at her.
“Why?”
Rylee smiled.
“Because I wanted to see you.”
That seemed to satisfy him.
He wrapped his arms around her neck again.
Rylee closed her eyes.
For just a moment, the fear disappeared.
There was only the weight of her son against her.
The warmth of his little body.
The familiar smell of his shampoo.
The soft fabric of his shirt beneath her fingers.
She kissed the side of his head.
“Come on.”
She stood and took his hand.
Miss Jessica stepped around the desk.
“Do you need anything else?”
“No.”
Rylee looked at her.
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize.”
Rylee gave her a small smile.
“Thank you.”
Then she was gone.
She hurried through the door with Dakota beside her.
The rain had picked up.
She opened the back door, helped him climb into his car seat, and fastened the straps. His little stuffed dinosaur was already tucked beneath one arm.
“Got your dinosaur?”
Dakota looked down at it.
“Yeah.”
“Okay.”
Rylee checked the straps twice, then shut the door.
She stood in the rain for half a second, staring at the daycare.
Four months.
She had trusted this place.
She had trusted Miss Jessica.
She had trusted the little routines she’d built.
And now she was leaving.
Again.
Rylee got behind the wheel.
She started the engine.
For several seconds, she simply sat there.
Dakota watched her from the back seat.
“Mommy?”
“I’m okay.”
He didn’t answer.
Rylee looked at him through the mirror.
His small fingers were wrapped around the dinosaur’s tail.
“Mommy’s okay,” she repeated.
“Okay.”
She pulled away from the curb.
The daycare disappeared behind her.
Rylee drove.
For the first twenty minutes, she barely spoke.
She watched the road.
Checked the mirrors.
Watched the rain.
Checked the mirrors again.
Every dark-colored SUV made her stomach tighten.
Every vehicle that stayed behind her for more than a few minutes became a possibility.
She hated herself for it.
She hated what Tyson had done to her mind.
She had once been good at conflict.
She had been the person her friends called when they needed someone to talk them down from something stupid. She’d always been the practical one. The one who could look at a problem, break it into pieces, and figure out what to do next.
She had loved adventure.
She’d loved getting in the car without knowing exactly where the day would take her.
She’d laughed too loudly.
She’d stayed out too late.
She’d been the person who could turn a boring Saturday into a story everyone would still be telling years later.
Somewhere along the way, she had become a woman who counted exits.
A woman who memorized license plates.
A woman who kept a bag in her trunk.
A woman who could pack her son’s entire life in less than twenty minutes.
Rylee blinked hard.
A tear slid down her cheek.
She wiped it away.
“Mommy?”
She glanced into the mirror.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Where we going?”
Rylee hesitated.
“On a little trip.”
“Where?”
“Tennessee.”
“Why?”
Rylee smiled faintly.
“Because we’re going somewhere new.”
“Again?”
The question was innocent.
The word wasn’t.
Rylee’s chest tightened.
“Just for a little while.”
Dakota looked out the window.
Then he looked back at her.
“Okay.”
He accepted it.
Children could be astonishingly good at accepting the things adults couldn’t.
Rylee drove on.
The rain followed them.
Eventually, the roads widened, the traffic thinned, and the buildings began to disappear.
Dakota’s questions became less frequent.
His little voice faded.
Rylee glanced into the rearview mirror.
His head had fallen to one side.
His dinosaur was tucked beneath his arm.
His eyes were closed.
He was asleep.
Rylee looked at him for several seconds before turning her attention back to the road.
A strange ache filled her chest.
She reached over and turned the radio down.
She didn’t need music.
She needed quiet.
For the first time since she’d left the restaurant, she let herself breathe.
Her shoulders dropped.
Her hands loosened slightly around the steering wheel.
And then she cried.
Not loudly.
She couldn’t.
She was driving.
But tears slipped down her cheeks, warm against skin cooled by the air coming through the vents.
Her eyes burned.
She wiped one cheek with the heel of her hand.
Another tear followed.
Then another.
Her blue eyes were already swollen from the tears she’d refused to shed at work, and now there was no one in the car who needed her to pretend she wasn’t afraid.
She glanced at Koda again.
“God, baby,” she whispered.
Her voice cracked.
“I’m sorry.”
He didn’t hear her.
That was probably a good thing.
She looked back at the road.
She had chosen Tennessee because she’d planned for this.
She had a place in mind.
A small town.
Far enough from Florida.
Far enough from Virginia.
Far enough from the life she’d left behind.
Huntingdon.
She had researched it months ago.
She knew there were larger cities within driving distance if she needed something she couldn’t find locally. She knew it wasn’t the kind of place Tyson would immediately expect her to choose.
He would expect her to rebuild.
He knew she had worked in advertising.
He knew she had gone to school for it.
He knew she liked having a career.
If he were looking for her, he’d probably expect her to choose somewhere where she could walk into an advertising firm and start over.
He wouldn’t expect her to disappear into a smaller Tennessee town.
At least, she hoped he wouldn’t.
Rylee sniffed and wiped her face again.
She had a small house in mind.
Nothing fancy.
Nothing like the life she’d once had.
But it had enough room for Koda.
That was what mattered.
Maybe there would be a yard.
Maybe Koda could play outside.
Maybe she could find somewhere near the water.
She had always loved water.
She didn’t know why.
She’d never been able to explain it.
Something about being near it made her feel like she could breathe deeper.
Maybe that was all she wanted now.
Somewhere she could breathe.
Somewhere nobody knew her.
Somewhere nobody knew Tyson.
Rylee drove for another hour.
Then another.
The rain eventually weakened to a fine mist.
The sky remained gray, but a pale strip of light appeared near the horizon.
She watched it for a moment.
Then she looked at Koda again.
He was still sleeping.
His mouth was slightly open.
One sock had slipped halfway off his foot.
Rylee smiled.
She reached toward the back seat at the next red light and gently pulled the sock back into place.
Koda stirred.
“Mommy?”
“I’m here.”
He rubbed his eyes.
“Where are we?”
“Still driving.”
He yawned.
“Are we there?”
“Not yet.”
He looked around sleepily.
Then he frowned.
“I’m hungry.”
Rylee almost laughed.
It came out as a small breath instead.
“You are?”
“Yeah.”
“What do you want?”
He thought about it.
Rylee waited.
“Is it dinner time?”
“Almost.”
“I want pancakes.”
She smiled.
“Pancakes?”
He nodded seriously.
“With syrup.”
“Of course.”
“And butter.”
“Naturally.”
He settled back against his seat.
Rylee looked at him in the mirror.
For the first time all afternoon, something inside her loosened.
She laughed softly.
“Pancakes for dinner.”
Koda smiled.
“Yeah.”
Rylee smiled back.
“Okay, baby. Pancakes it is.”
She turned her eyes back toward the road.
The fear was still there.
She knew it wouldn’t disappear.
Not completely.
Not anymore.
But for the moment, she had her son.
She had a full tank of gas.
She had a bag in the trunk.
She had a destination.
And for the first time since she’d walked out of Main Street Grill, Rylee allowed herself to believe that maybe—just maybe—they were going to be okay.
She didn’t know if the life waiting for them in Tennessee would become the closest thing to home she’d had in years.
She didn’t know how many people she’d meet there.
She didn’t know if she would love the little house she planned to rent, or if it would feel like just another temporary stop.
She didn’t know if Koda would like having a yard to play in, or whether he would miss the places they’d left behind.
She didn’t know if this town would finally give them the peace she’d been searching for.
For now, she only knew that the road stretched ahead of her, wet and dark beneath the afternoon sky.
Rylee kept driving.
And she didn’t look back.