The feeling started small.
Amara had learned to trust small feelings a long time ago, growing up the way they did, in a house where resources were limited and awareness was necessary. Small feelings were the ones that kept you safe. Small feelings were the ones that people ignored right before something went wrong.
She noticed it the second time she left the hotel.
Not a person she could point to. Not a face that appeared twice in obvious ways. Just a quality in the air around her movements, a sense that the space she occupied was being observed from somewhere she could not directly locate. She walked normally. She bought what she needed. She moved through the street without changing her pace.
But the feeling did not leave.
By the time she reached a safe distance she took a different
