"Check the mirrors," Zeke says, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. "Tell me if you see anyone following us."
I twist in my seat, scanning the cars behind us. A silver sedan. A black SUV. A red pickup. They all look suspicious. They all look innocent.
"I don't know," I say, my voice shaking. "I can't tell."
Zeke takes a sudden right turn, then another. The silver sedan keeps going straight. The SUV turns with us, and my heart stops.
"Zeke-"
"I see it." He takes another turn, faster this time. The SUV continues straight.
False alarm. Or maybe they're just better at this than we thought.
"Where are we going?" I ask.
"My house. My parents are at work, and it's got a security system." He glances at me. "Unless you'd rather go to yours?"
"No. Yours is good." Mom's at work too, an
