Page 162 of Callan

Mackenzie is still out of my sight.

Has she gone out?

No, there’s no way.

I should’ve seen her.

She would’ve seen me.

What if she saw me and got away faster than I could spot her?

As ridiculous as it sounds, that thought makes me shudder.

That wouldn’t be good, would it?

I suck in a short breath and scan the area.

As far as I can see, no one qualifies as a suspect.

I notice the mom and the kid. A couple of teenagers holding hands. And an elderly man with a checkered cap and a small dog on a long leash, wearing a matching coat.

So far so good.

No one has snatched her up. That would surely be weird and prompt me to burn half of the city down.

I run nervous fingers through my hair and suck in another breath, getting ready to come up with a lie for her if she is, in fact, in the store, before looking at the entrance.

MACKENZIE

Momentsearlier

The stormof emotions comes to a swift end when I realize I need to buy food before throwing myself a self-pity party.

And so, I quickly get irritated.

I don’t want to go out again.

I could order food, but I have to be careful with how I spend my money.

I won’t be working for him again any time soon.

I don’t think so.

Of course not.

The realization stirs me up, a cloud of dark energy hovering over me.

He may be gone, but my problems aren’t.

I pull on a new pair of pants, a long-sleeved top, and new socks before picking up my winter jacket.

From a kitchen drawer, I retrieve some money before snatching up my phone and collecting my keys.

Moments later, I’m out in the street, heading to an Italian grocery store around the corner.

I rarely go to this store. Not because I don’t like it or the food is not good––it’s great, by the way––but because it’s a little more expensive.

It’s getting dark outside when I enter the place and straightly go to the fresh produce aisle.

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