Page 41 of The Birthday Girl
Kali exploded from the school doors, ponytails flying behind her like twin kites as she leapt down the steps three at a time, her overstuffed purple backpack threatening to spill its contents with each bounce.
“Kali!” Her little brother, Tyriq Jr., clapped his sticky hands as he watched his sister run to their car.
A few moments later, Kali yanked open the rear passenger door and climbed in with the kind of energy Shanice wished she still had.
“Mommy, guess what we did today—”
“Seatbelt first,” Shanice cut in, scanning the street again. “Did that lady come back?”
“No, Mommy.” Kali rolled her eyes. “You ask every day. Every day. Every day.” She moved her arms animatedly. “Why?”
“Just asking, baby. What did y’all do today?” Shanice quickly changed the subject so Kali wouldn’t keep going on.”
“Ooh, we had so much fun. My tea—”
Amid Kali's breathless chatter about finger-painting and playground politics, a black sedan with chrome rims slowly eased around the corner. Shanice's spine stiffened as her attention locked onto the vehicle. It had the same obsidian paint job, buffed to a mirror shine, with windows tinted so dark that they swallowed light, and it crept at fifteen miles per hour when everyone else moved at thirty.
The Texas license plate came into focus: TFG1093. Those seven characters were burned into her memory. Shanice gasped,her stomach twisting into a fist-sized knot as acid climbed her throat and sweat beaded along her hairline. Visibly trembling, her foot had jammed down on the brake as if an invisible hand had seized her and demanded she not move.
The window on the driver’s side rolled down a fraction, and the barrel of a phone camera poked through. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, a flash blinked from inside, once, twice, three times, aimed straight at her and her children.
Nerves shot and heart racing, Shanice mashed the gas pedal. The Honda shot down the street, her tires squealing as she swerved into the next lane. A horn split the air as she cut off a compact car, its driver slamming the brakes so hard the vehicle fishtailed.
She darted back left, nearly clipping a delivery truck. The driver’s furious shout was lost beneath the blast of his horn, but Shanice hardly heard it. Her entire body locked onto survival, her gaze glued to the black SUV in her rearview mirror, trailing them.
Shanice blew through a yellow light that turned red before she cleared the intersection. Brakes screeched. A pickup skidded sideways, its grill missing her bumper by inches. She gasped, jerking the wheel so hard her shoulder cracked and the vehicle bounced over the curb before slamming back onto the asphalt.
“Mommy!” Kali shrieked, clutching her seatbelt.
Tyriq Jr. squealed in terrified delight, his small body bouncing with each violent turn. His toy fire truck tumbled from his lap and smacked the floor before rolling under the seat. Tyriq Jr. banged on the window with glee, his sticky fingerprints multiplying across the glass.
“Mommy, I wan a chicken nuggee?” he asked, unaware of the danger riding their tail.
Shanice’s eyes darted from the road to the mirror, her chest aching from the force of her breaths. “Not today, bug,” shebarked, her voice raw as she gripped the wheel, making a right turn on two wheels.
Kali groaned, her voice laced with defiance. “But you promised last week!”
Shanice’s throat tightened as she watched the truck gaining on her. “Kali, please, not right now!” The words tore from her mouth, jagged and desperate, her patience unraveling with every swerve of the wheel.
Her mind was tallying escape routes and worst-case scenarios as the black SUV turned left, then right, keeping pace but never overtaking, and never lagging far enough to be mistaken for coincidence.
“But, Mommy!” Kali whined, her voice higher now, shrill with fear.
“Enough, Kali!” Shanice snapped, the panic cutting her words into sharp edges. “Do not talk! Do not say another word! Mommy has to drive!”
Even Tyriq Jr. froze, wide eyes blinking at her reflection in the rearview.
Shanice swallowed hard, forcing her voice steady. “I said no nuggets. We have food at home.”
Eyes on the rearview mirror, she cranked a right without signaling, and the tires bit into the asphalt with a high-pitched screech. Behind her, the SUV's turn signal flashed once, then it swung onto the same street.
Shanice's lungs seized mid-breath, and she yanked the wheel left at Maple Drive, then right onto Sycamore Lane, her pulse hammering, and her ribs tightening around a panic so agonizing it hurt to breathe.
From the backseat, Tyriq Jr. squealed in delight, and Kali yelped in fright as their small bodies swayed with each turn. Ignoring them, Shanice pressed on the gas pedal, weaving through the narrow side streets until her block came into view.
By the time she pulled into her apartment complex, the road was empty, the street was quiet, and the vehicle that had haunted her in the rearview mirror was nowhere to be seen.
Shanice parked quickly, hands trembling as she wrestled the keys from the ignition.
