Within another thirty minutes, the sun was well and truly making its final stand, and I pulled out my phone to look for a tube stop. I frowned when I discovered the nearest one was over half a mile away. How did I get so far off the beaten track?

I could Uber it. But again, since I didn't exactly have a job yet, I didn't want to spend money I didn't have to. And I had my Oyster card, so might as well use it.

As I marched along, people around me smiled and chattered. People were walking with their dogs as I made a turn on to the high street. It was busier there, and I felt a little less anxious.

But still, I couldn't shake my niggling hyper-awareness of everything that was around me. I made another left and a right. This was the way to the tube stop, right? Shit. I pulled out my phone again and saw the five percent charge warning. I'd left my stupid spare charger at home. Damn it. I pulled out my map and frowned when I realized, yeah, I was indeed off the beaten path. I had to turn around about three more blocks, make a right, another left, and then I’d be back on the high street.

Damn it. I turned around, but there it was again… that warning tripping up my spine and making the hair on my neck stand at attention. What was that? I glanced around, but all I saw were people in their jackets, walking their dogs, smoking cigarettes, carrying their takeout, and basically just enjoying their evening.

Relax. You're freaking yourself out. Just keep moving.

I made my turn, then the next one. But then I heard something behind me. When I turned, my heart beat so fast I thought it was going to explode in my chest. Who was that across the street? Had he been following me the whole time? I couldn't see the guy's face, but he was tallish, a familiar build, athletic. My skin broke out into a sweat. My heart continued to hammer. My brain was sending all the appropriate fear signals. Run. Run. Danger is coming. You better run.

I picked up my pace and hoofed it, glad I still had some people on the street with me. Would anyone help me if I screamed?

Or was this like America, where a young black woman might be ignored?

No. The British are unfailingly polite. Someone will stop. Right?

I was nearly running at that point. The booming in my head kept screaming. Run. Run. Run. Run.

Oh God, I couldn't breathe. My breathing was short and choppy. And then I turned at just the right moment, and when the light hit his face, the breath caught in my lungs. No.

No. No. No. No. It couldn't be him.

Easton. It was Easton. Easton was chasing me. Easton was coming for me. Fuck.