Page 147 of Obsession

I strap myself in and then look out the window. Charlotte hasn’t moved, dressed in a long cardigan despite the summer heat. She tucks a tendril of her dark hair behind her ear and smiles as her eyes brim with tears.

Who thought driving away from my childhood home would be this hard? A home that carries so many horrible memories.

I always assumed this was the easiest decision I’d ever make. But it’s probably the hardest. This house. This town. Charlotte… They’re all I’ve ever known.

I swallow down the knot in my throat and start up the engine.

I pull away from the sidewalk, soaking up the sight of my street for the last time.

Across from my house, Mr. O’Harte trims his evergreen shrub. When I drive down the road, he follows me with his curious eyes, his sunhat pulled low over his forehead.

Mrs. Lofthouse’s young boy, with scraggly blonde hair and scraped knees, cycles past on the sidewalk on his blue bike, shaded by the large trees lining the roads. His small legs pump the pedals to carry him up the incline.

A dog barks somewhere through my open window as the breeze cools the sweat on my neck. A few houses down the road, I wave to Mona, a night nurse at the hospital who has just arrived home from her shift. She looks stupefied, standing by her hatchback as I drive past.

Not that I blame her. I’ve never waved to her or any of my neighbors before. Not because I didn’t want to but because I kept to myself.

Now it’s different.

I’ll never return. Once I turn the corner and leave the past behind, I won’t look in the rearview mirror again.

Tentatively, she raises her small hand, but I’ve already passed, approaching the end of the road.

And then it happens.

I turn the corner.

A small duck pond,its surface calm and glassy, sits in the middle of the small park. As I breathe in the scent of the snow-capped fir trees, a cold breeze caresses my cheeks. Christmas is around the corner, evidenced by the fairy lights in the naked trees lining the small sidewalk behind me.

“Miss Campbell?”

Inhaling a steadying breath, I stay looking at the pond. Mr. Needham, Robbie Hammond’s lawyer, stops beside me.

With his hands in his pockets and his nose buried in his navy scarf, he takes in the sight before us. “It’s peaceful.”

I hum an agreeing sound and chance a side glance at him.

Mr. Needham meets my gaze and smiles softly. His graying hair, with its receding hairline, is a mess atop his head, and his sideburns are bright against his pale face and rosy cheeks. His eyes look tired even as he studies my face like I study his.

“I think we’re the only people who care about him,” he comments, making my heart clench at the mention of Robbie.

“He just disappeared,” I reply, inwardly cringing when my voice breaks. “He left.”

Mr. Needham nods but stays silent, watching me closely.

Burying deeper into my coat, I admit, “I always knew he would.”

Yes, I knew from the first moment I met him that he was indestructible. A man like Robbie can’t be chained, and he certainly can’t be put to death without his consent. He’s out there…somewhere.

“Robbie would never admit it,” Mr. Needham starts in a clear but quiet voice. “He loves deeply, and that scares him.”

Behind us, a loved-up couple walks past, admiring the fairy lights in the trees. I watch the couple with longing, and my heart twinges before I look back at Mr. Needham.

“You must understand, Miss Campbell, that he couldn’t live with himself if he hurt you.”

I open my mouth to reply, but he cuts me off. “He’s a dangerous man.”

“I know he is.”