Rose pulled out of the diner parking lot just as a large black vehicle turned onto the road a block away.

I looked back.

It was a luxury SUV, but the headlights were off.

My breath caught in my throat.

“Rose, go,” I said. “Take the back road toward the interstate.”

Rose didn’t ask questions. She stepped on the gas, and the old sedan sped down the dark, winding lane.

The SUV behind us turned its headlights on.

The bright LED beams illuminated the interior of our car, casting our shadows sharply against the dashboard.

“Is that him?” Claire asked, her voice cracking.

“Yes,” I said.

He was tailing us, keeping a steady distance of about three car lengths.

He wasn’t trying to pass. He was just watching.

“Don’t stop,” I told Rose. “Whatever you do, don’t stop.”

“I’m not stopping,” Rose said, her knuckles white on the steering wheel.

We hit the highway entrance ramp.

The old sedan struggled to gain speed, the engine whining under the strain.

Richard’s SUV followed us onto the highway, moving into the lane beside us.