“Why?”
“Because Simone started asking questions. Where was I going? Who was I running from? Did police know? I thought Tyler might have sent her.”
“Had he?”
“I don’t think so now.”
Rebecca had been exhausted, frightened, and operating on almost no sleep.
She walked away from the truck stop.
A church volunteer found her the following morning and helped her reach a domestic violence shelter.
There, Rebecca did something that changed everything.
She gave a false surname.
Not because she wanted us to believe she was dead.
Because she wanted Tyler unable to find her.
“I planned to call Mom once I was safe.”
“But then the fire happened.”
She nodded.
“Three days later, I saw my own obituary online.”
My throat closed.
“You saw it.”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t call.”
“Not then.”
“When?”
She looked at me.
“Seven months later.”
I stood so fast the chair struck the wall.
