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his own eyebrows as the smile officially became a leer.
    “I’m sorry, I’m in a hurry.” Amy took two more steps to her left. This time the man did move. He took one step towards her.
    “Are you sure? I could really use some advice on this. You see, my girlfriend kind of looks like you. And I figured maybe the two of you might share the same kind of tastes.”
    Amy felt a tight chill down her back. She contemplated leaving her cart and just exiting the store. But then a twinge of anger surfaced along side her trepidation. She straightened her posture and a surge of confidence spoke for her. “No,” she said. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you. Excuse me.” She threw both packets of rice back onto the shelf, gripped the handle of the cart with both hands, and went to maneuver it past the man, hoping he would take the hint and step aside. He did, but very slowly, looking her up and down as she worked passed him.
    “I understand,” the man said. “I didn’t mean any harm, you know.”
    Amy ignored him and never once looked back as she pushed the cart up to the self-serve checkout line. She regretted not taking the rice, but for now starch could—and would—wait. Besides, she could pick some up somewhere else. Or better yet, have Patrick do it.
    Amy quickly scanned the meat and juice over the scanner, only pausing long enough to make certain each item emitted the definitive boop!
    Stuffing the items into the plastic bags next to the scanner proved more cumbersome than it should, and she cursed her nerves. She thought of people in movies who struggled to put keys into locks when they were scared—fine motor skills that went out the window due to the effects of adrenaline. Who knew bagging groceries could be a fine motor skill?
    Just get it done and go, girl.
    She was on the second to last bottle of juice when Amy knew that the man with the shaved head was behind her. She refused to turn and acknowledge his presence. Only two more beeps and a swipe of her debit card and she was out of there.
    “You know, miss…in a way I was giving you a compliment,” the voice behind her said.
    She ignored him.
    “My girlfriend is a beautiful woman.”
    One beep down.
    “I’m not kidding.”
    She could hear his breathing, low and heavy.
    “The two of you could be sisters.”
    Second beep. Swipe the debit card and you’re done.
    “I wonder if your tits are the same.”
    She froze.
    “You wanna turn around and give me a little peek?”
    Amy spun. “Fuck you!” She actually shot spit when the expletive left her mouth.
    The man with the shaved head just laughed and held up both hands in playful surrender. By now several curious eyes were on the pair. The man met the stares of each onlooker—an arrogant smile for all of them—before leaving through the hiss of the automatic doors.
    Amy breathed in and closed her eyes. Purple blotches swirled inside the black canvas of her eyelids. Her legs shook. She placed both hands on the rim of the conveyer belt to steady herself.
    “Are you alright, ma’am?” A pleasant female voice said behind her. Amy nodded but kept her eyes closed, facing the register. She took one final breath, opened her eyes, and swiped her debit card. She punched in her code, waited for approval, ignored the receipt, grabbed the groceries, and headed outside.
    Amy was close to the Highlander when she stopped and dropped both bags of groceries to the ground. She doubted her vision. What she was looking at couldn’t be what she was looking at. But it was. And the fact that a stranger had left two packets of instant rice on her windshield wasn’t nearly as unnerving as the fact that the stranger knew which car was hers.

7
    Amy was still shaking when she pulled the Highlander into the cabin’s driveway. She switched off the ignition and leaned to her right, collecting both handles of the plastic grocery bags in one grip. With an angry tug that was more forceful than it needed to be, she jerked the