Jared put one hand back and wheel and shoved the gear in drive. “Okay,” he sighed. “Back to Providence.”

The drive home seemed to take less time. Jared made me repeat the story we would tell the police over and over. I had recited the words dozens of times when the twinge hit.

Jared immediately looked down to my stomach, and then his eyes met mine. “Are you okay?”

I grimaced. “Maybe we could pull over for a moment. I should walk, I think.”

The Tundra made a gentle turn to the left, pulling into the gas station we had stopped at on the way to Virginia Beach. A familiar group of transients idled in the parking lot. Jared opened my door, and kept close as we made our way into the store. To escape the eyes of the quiet group as we walked past, I kept my eyes on the asphalt, noting the grease spots and wads of old gum. I wasn’t sure if it was their presence, but something seemed off, and I could tell that Jared felt it, too.

Jared held the door open for me, and even though I let out the breath I’d been holding, the heavy feeling only became worse. Apart from the cashier, we were the only ones in the store, but I still couldn’t

Meandering in the aisles with no real goal, I stretched my back and neck, picking up a package of something and then setting it back onto the shelf. A roach crawled from behind bags of crackers and then disappeared. I lurched back my hand, and glanced around. I didn’t recall the store being quite so filthy the last time we were in, but my memory consisted of a quick trip to the bathroom.

One of the fluorescent lights blinked and buzzed overhead. From my peripheral vision, I could see that the man behind the counter was staring at me. He was of small build, and dark-complexioned. His lack of expression made me instantly nervous. I’d seen that look before.

I heard the cooler doors shut, and then Jared rounded the corner with two large bottles of water and a forced smile. He held out his hand, pulling in his fingers twice to signal me to come to him. The air around us felt stale, and my heart began to thump loudly against my chest.

“You don’t have long,” the man behind the counter said, glancing to my protruding belly.

I instinctively touched my stomach with my free hand.

Jared cautiously approached the cash register, keeping me a safe distance behind him. He took another step and paused. “Are you okay?”

The man was panting, his body swaying in a rhythmic movement. Sweat glistened across his face and neck, and dampened his white polo shirt. The darkened circles under his eyes made his sunken eyes seem even more alarming.