Back in the sanctuary of my apartment, I couldn't shake the lingering unease that had trailed me from Timothy's. I’d made a promise to him, yet, as I recalled the chart I had drawn – a web of names and connections – I couldn't resist the urge to dip back into my findings.
I brought out the chart and laid it out on my desk. The stranger who had held me at gunpoint in my car was a puzzle piece that refused to fit neatly into the larger picture. I grabbed a pen and began scribbling various thoughts and theories.
As I wrote, the door swung open, and my heart leapt to my throat. I hastily covered the chart, the sudden intrusion leaving me on edge. The shock of seeing my mother standing in my living room only added to the confusion.
"Evie, darling, how are you?" Mia beamed, seemingly obliviou
