Page 84 of Bought By the Ruthless Pakhan

I didn't go back to Ivan. Didn't return to teach Nadia either.

Gary's appearance had set off every alarm bell in my head. I started rebuilding my life, made sure to drop Alex off and pick him up from school every single day. On the surface, everything looked calm. Steady.

But I knew better. The wire inside me stayed taut. Never slacked.

I changed the locks. Started quietly looking into short-term rentals.

I was planning an escape—away from here, away from Ivan, away from Gary, away from every goddamn thing that tied me to the past.

Except...

Maybe I'd been too wound up lately, too paranoid. Because these past few days had gone too smoothly. Unnaturally smooth.

Like at the grocery store a few days back. I was stretching for a can on the top shelf when it slipped. The whole thing came tumbling down, straight at my head.

I squeezed my eyes shut, braced for impact.

Nothing.

When I opened them, some guy in a work uniform had caught it mid-air. He smiled, said, "Careful there, ma'am," handed it over, and walked away.

I'd chalked it up to luck.

This morning, Alex told me he wanted the blueberry muffins from that old bakery downtown. He said they only made a limited number every day, and they would be sold out if we went too late. I complained to him that we probably wouldn't be able to get any today. But when I took the bus there, there was actually one last box sitting alone on the shelf, as if it had been waiting there just for me to come and take it.

One weird thing after another.

Was God finally throwing me a bone after all the shit I'd been through?

On the walk back with Alex, I felt eyes on my back.

But when I looked back, the street was filled with people rushing by, none of them paying any attention to me. Cars moved through the busy roads, and everything around me was perfectly, unbearably normal.

Too normal.

I was being paranoid. I had to be.

I stared at myself in the mirror. "Relax. Keep this up, and you'll lose it before Gary even makes his move."

I pressed my fingers to my forehead, willing myself to stay calm.

The doorbell rang.

I dried my hands and looked through the peephole.

Chris.

He stood outside holding a bouquet of white roses, his other hand jammed in his suit pocket. He looked stiff. Not his usual easygoing self.

What was going on? He should be at work right now.

I opened the door.

"Chris? What are you doing here?"

Chris stared at me. His throat bobbed. He didn't come in right away, just pushed the roses toward me. "Anna, can I come in? I need to talk to you."

The seriousness in his eyes made my chest tighten.