CHAPTER TEN
Abbie was completely alone.
Her breath came in regimented puffs, steaming up over her shoulder on the chill air. She kept her eyes on the sidewalk ahead, occasionally glancing off towards the cars parked on either side of the road. A nervous, flitting motion—one she'd had ever since the accident.
Of course, it hadn't really been an accident. That was just what they told people. What her family had insisted they tell relatives and inquisitive neighbors.
Abbie picked up the pace, heart hammering, breathing heavily as she moved through the suburban streets. Like clockwork, with practiced motions, she crossed from one side to the other. Ahead, one of the safety lights was out. It hadn't been fixed for weeks, and so Abbie pathed her nighttime jog around it.
She liked the night.
