Chapter 11 - THE SHADOW IN THE REARVIEW
Rain swept across the windshield in heavy, blurring sheets as Elowen steered her worn hatchback out of Oakridge Lane's alleyway, keeping her headlights off until she cleared the neighborhood perimeter.
In the back seat, baby Leo slept in his rear-facing infant car seat, secured beneath a heavy wool blanket. On the passenger seat lay the manila file from Zurich, along with Mara’s dropped burner phone.
Elowen’s hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned ghostly white. Every shadow along the rain-slicked suburban avenue looked like a waiting sedan; every flash of headlights behind her made her heart hammer against her ribs.
She checked her rearview mirror for the tenth time in two miles.
A pair of dark, angular LED headlights had turned out from the harbor access road three blocks back, maintaining a fixed, precise distance behind her.
They knew she had left the house.
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Elowen slammed her foot onto the accelerator. The hatchback’s engine whined as it surged forward down Highway 17. The dark SUV behind her accelerated instantly to match her speed, its high beams flashing once through her rear window—a silent, predatory command to pull over.
"Not tonight," Elowen whispered through grit teeth, pulling a hard right turn onto a gravel logging road that wound toward the riverbank.
