Prologue
It was just one of those days. Sarah Abbey was late for work at the Bed Bath & Beyond in The Avenues due to a traffic accident. Her clients, a young engaged couple who wanted to register there, were upset from the beginning because she was late for their appointment. It ruined the atmosphere, and the groom-to-be didn’t like any of Sarah’s ideas. They ended up leaving without registering, and Sarah’s entire morning was wasted. Then, at lunch, she realized she had brought Scott’s turkey sandwich instead of her own with ham. Since the Thanksgiving dinner as a child when she got sick and threw up, Sarah had hated turkey and couldn’t eat it. Just the smell alone made her feel sick. She texted Scott a picture of the sandwich, followed by an emoji laughing so hard it cried. Later, her boss yelled at her for placing the new bath towels from Huntley on the wrong shelf, and she had to excuse herself and say she didn’t know where her head was.
Now that she was finally coming up her driveway and stopped the car in front of the small townhouse she shared with her boyfriend; she felt a sigh of great relief leave her body. Finally, she could relax. Nothing had worked out today, and there wasn’t enough coffee in the world to make her feel better.
At least, now that she was home, she could get a glass of wine. She would put on some comfortable clothes and just relax—maybe binge some Netflix until Scott came home.
Sarah got out of the car and walked up toward the front door when she noticed something on the doorstep. The sight made her smile and forget all about the dreadful day, at least for a few seconds.
It was a huge bouquet of beautiful white lilies.
Her favorites.
She reached down and grabbed them, still smiling and shaking her head while mumbling, “Scott, you really shouldn’t have.”
She unlocked the door, holding the bouquet close to her chest, then walked into the kitchen and placed it on the granite countertop. She put her purse down, then found the big clear glass vase on top of the fridge and poured water into it.
They had been dating for two years now and living together for the past six months. It was a rental, and Scott talked about finding something they could buy together, but Sarah hesitated. She wanted to make sure they really meant it, that they could figure things out before making such a big decision.
Looking at the flowers, she suddenly realized she was in way deeper than she had thought. She was really in love with him.
She unpacked the lilies and looked for the card but didn’t find any. Scott wasn’t a man of big words, so it was no surprise, she thought and shrugged it off. He had probably decided to send her the flowers because he was sad about the sandwich mix-up today. Or maybe he just thought she needed it. Scott was a guy who would surprise her like that. He was the type who was always there at the right time and place.
“There, that looks great,” she said as she let go of the flowers in the vase, and they folded out to show their splendor. The bouquet was even bigger than she had thought, and she wondered if it hadn’t been too expensive.
Sarah took a picture of them, then sent a text to Scott:
YOU REALLY SHOULDN’T HAVE
It took a few minutes before he answered:
I DIDN’T
Sarah stared at the display of her phone, puzzled at his response. She then lifted her gaze and looked at the flowers, now with a concerned look. If they weren’t from Scott, then who?
Who else in this world knew how much she loved white lilies?
Prologue
Sarah felt her hand holding the phone begin to shake. Then she put it down, grabbed the flowers, and threw them in the trash. She stood and stared at the trash bin for a few minutes, her heart throbbing in her throat. Then she realized she needed the flowers out of the house completely. The mere thought of having them inside made the hairs rise on the back of her neck.
She grabbed the garbage bag, closed it, carried it outside, and then threw it in the big bin. She slammed the lid shut. Sarah stared at it, almost feeling as if the flowers could jump out of it and attack her.
They’re just flowers, Sarah.
Sarah took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself, then walked back to the porch. As she came in through the door, she stopped, sensing something. She turned and looked just in time to see a truck go by her house, driving very slowly.
Their house was at the end of a cul-de-sac. It wasn’t often cars drove by if they didn’t come to visit Sarah and Scott. Some people would accidentally come down their street, then use it to turn around, and that was all the traffic they usually got. Sarah stared at the pick-up truck as it continued past her house, still going very slowly. She tried to peek inside the cabin, but the windows were dark, and she couldn’t see who was sitting in it. It returned to the street, then sped up while Sarah looked after it, heart pumping in her throat.
Easy now, Sarah.
Sarah watched as the truck disappeared completely, then turned around and went back inside, closing the door and locking it safely. She walked to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of white wine, her hand still shaking as she tipped the bottle. She sipped the drink, letting the wine run down her throat and do what it did best, calming her. Except it didn’t really work. Her heart was still beating rapidly, and she had a hard time finding rest. She walked back and forth by the kitchen window, sipping her wine, staring out into the street.
You’re paranoid, Sarah. It’s impossible.
Sarah took another sip, then decided it was time to stop staring out the window. She was about to turn and walk away when she spotted the pick-up truck again. It was driving up the street once more and soon entering the cul-de-sac. It was going even slower this time like the driver was trying to figure out if this was the right place or not.
Sarah gasped lightly, then walked back into the living room, holding a hand on her chest and her beating heart. She sat down on the couch, then looked at the phone, wondering if she should text Scott. She knew he had a meeting with a potential new client today, one that he had worked on landing for months. Life as a freelance graphic designer could at times be tough, especially when the economy was suffering. Scott hadn’t had many new clients this past year.
You can’t disturb him now.
Sarah sighed and put the phone down, then closed her eyes briefly, once again reminding herself that it wasn’t possible—that what she was imagining couldn’t possibly be happening.
You’re seeing things, making them up. You’ll end up paranoid if you’re not careful. You’ll be one of Scott’s clients.
She breathed again, easy and steadily, focusing on just that. Breathe in, hold it, and breathe out.
It worked. Her heart calmed, and as she opened her eyes again, she noticed something that immediately got her pulse to spike again, even worse than earlier.
There was something on top of the fireplace. Something she knew she hadn’t put there.
“What in the…”
Sarah jumped up, then grabbed the frame between her hands. The picture inside it had been replaced with another one.
One from her past. A picture of her taken five years earlier in a different place and time.
Sarah clasped her mouth and could barely breathe as she stared at herself from years ago. She pulled out the picture and set it on fire before throwing it in the fireplace. The tears began to flow just as there was a knock on the door. She dropped the empty frame, then turned to look.