Chapter 8 - SAFETY IS NOT PERMISSION
Linda was still outside when Ryan returned.
The grocery bag sat at her feet.
“What are you doing here?”
“I brought food.”
“I told you not to come without calling.”
“You weren't answering.”
“I was busy.”
“With him?”
Ryan stopped.
Linda immediately knew she'd revealed too much.
“How do you know?”
“I guessed.”
“No.”
Ryan looked toward the parking lot.
His car.
Then her car.
“You followed me?”
Linda's face hardened.
“I saw you leave the courthouse yesterday. I knew this would happen.”
“You followed me.”
“I needed to know whether Evan had approached you.”
Ryan laughed bitterly.
“You don't even need the AirTag.”
“He manipulated you into meeting him.”
“I called him.”
Linda froze.
“I chose to meet him.”
“Why?”
“Because I'm allowed to make decisions you don't approve of.”
Linda lowered her voice.
“You don't know what you're dealing with.”
“Yes, I do.”
Ryan stepped closer.
“Two people who think being afraid gives them permission to control me.”
“That is not fair.”
“Maybe not.”
He pointed toward the elevator.
“But leave.”
“Ryan—”
“Leave.”
Linda picked up the grocery bag.
Her expression shifted from anger to something wounded.
“You think I'm like him.”
“I think you learned some of his methods better than you realize.”
That hurt her.
Ryan could see it.
He hated hurting her.
But guilt had always been the lock on his cage.
He was finally learning to leave the door open anyway.
Linda walked toward the elevator.
Before stepping inside she turned.
“If Evan contacts you again, please tell me.”
“No.”
“Ryan.”
“If I feel unsafe, I'll contact police.”
“I am your mother.”
“And I am an adult.”
The elevator doors closed.
That night Ryan reviewed the hallway camera history.
Linda had arrived at 12:18 P.M.
But the camera showed something else.
At 11:47 A.M., thirty-one minutes earlier, another person had approached his door.
A man wearing a baseball cap.
He crouched near the welcome mat.
Ryan zoomed in.
The man's face wasn't visible.
He remained there for less than ten seconds.
Then left.
Ryan went into the hallway.
He lifted the mat.
Nothing.
Checked the frame.
Nothing.
Then he noticed the small planter beside his door.
Ryan tipped it over.
A folded piece of paper slid onto the floor.
Three words had been printed on it.
CHECK YOUR MOTHER'S GARAGE.
Ryan immediately thought of Evan.
He called him.
“Did you leave something outside my apartment?”
“No.”
“Don't lie.”
“I'm not.”
“You know somebody has already been there.”
Silence.
Ryan's pulse accelerated.
“What?”
Evan spoke more slowly.
“Ryan, I haven't been inside your building since the night I placed the tracker.”
“The night?”
Evan paused.
Ryan's skin went cold.
“You put the AirTag there at night?”
“Yes.”
“Which night?”
“About two weeks ago.”
Ryan looked at the note again.
The AirTag had been placed before Linda's late-night visit.
The note writer knew about the family.
Knew about 2009.
Knew Linda had a garage.
May you like
But if Evan wasn't leaving the messages—
someone else had been watching all three of them.
