The drive back home had started like any other. My thoughts drifted, still caught up in the relief of seeing my mother’s improving condition. The day, for once, had been good.
I was leaning against the window, deep into thoughs, when the driver, the assigned ond, tensed. I didn’t notice it at first until when he slightly tightened of his body and the way his hands gripped the steering wheel a little harder than usual. Then he glanced at the rearview mirror again. And again.
“What is it?” I asked, straightening in my seat.
He didn’t answer immediately, his eyes between the road and the mirror. “I think we’re being followed ma'am,” he said after a moment, his voice clipped but calm.
The words sent a chill down my spine. I turned to look out the back window, and sure enough, a black SUV
