A woman was getting on the bus with grocery bags; she glanced at me for just a few seconds.
I immediately lowered my head. "She knows." I thought, "She definitely knows." I kept walking. A man was on his phone; he also looked up. "He knows too."
I got into the car, almost trembling, locked it, and took a breath. My hands were sweating so much they slipped on the steering wheel.
"Relax..."
I told myself.
"Nobody knows anything."
Nobody, nobody. I repeated that phrase the whole way home.
As if I were trying to convince myself, as if I really could.
I chose a large supermarket; I thought I'd be less conspicuous there.
How wrong I was. As soon as I stepped through the automatic doors, I felt like everyone was turning toward me.
I knew it wasn't true, but my head kept telling me it wa
