Just as I’m waving goodbye to Mandy, I see the ‘blind’ man with his seeing-eye dog out of the corner of my eye.

Heaven above.

Not today. It’s too soon.

I don’t turn my head, don’t even lower the hand I still have raised, but I can see that the man’s hand is raised as well, like he’s giving the doberman a command, as I’m wrapped in the scent of chlorine bleach and sweaty fur. The dog stares rigidly in my direction, its posture attentive.

Keep your breathing steady. Your pace steady. Your thoughts…

Right. As if all those hours of mental exercises and mind games don’t fly out the window every time. I’m just glad my panic doesn’t bleed through my cheeks since it seems I’ll never learn to resist the increasing speed of my heartbeat or the pressure making its way into my face as a dull, terrified throb.

Should I go back over to Mandy and ask her mom if they could drive me to the George’s? 

Too late, they’ve already closed the car doors - this close to pulling away. And it would probably be easy enough for him to trace the car anyway. The last thing we need is the Ling’s being dragged into this.

Alright then, we do this the secret agent-y way.

Stay calm. Serenity or…something.

Finding the first group of kids heading toward Rayden Street I slip casually into the flock and ask cheerfully, “You girls heading to Peacock Mall?”

“Nooo, Scherrer’s,” one of the more talkative girls smiles invitingly. “You’re new to the area, right? They’re right next door to each other. You can walk with us.”

I smile my thanks and another one of the girls nods to show that I’m not a bother, but in two seconds they’ve all gone back to talking about what kind of ice cream and toppings they’ll be getting at Scherrer’s.

Fine by me-

“The Strawberry Mint Monster Sundae?”

“My god, you’re insane. Mint should not be put in ice cream, with chocolate chips or without.”

I’ve lost sight of the blind man, but that’s not a good sign. Unless I’m certain that I’ve actually lost him, I’d rather know exactly where he is.

Not just that he’s still here, somewhere. I can smell that nasty doberman’s hot breath.

I’ll only really be able to shake the creep if I can stay in his blind spot, and no, the irony of that statement does not escape me.

I wave goodbye to the group of girls and hurry into the mall (almost) as quickly as my legs will carry me.

Do not run. Do not run. Ironically, when people see kids running at breakneck speed, they almost always stop them.

Getting a significant distance away from the entrance is harder than anticipated-

Mega-duh. It’s a Friday afternoon. I always forget that part, since I tend to avoid malls as much as possible.

I’m hit by an amalgam of smells so noxious it’s dizzying, as I try to push my way through the thick crowd choking the first floor. A thousand different body washes, chemical cleaners, fast food restaurants and perfume samples. I gag, but manage to focus and find a pattern to the chaos. Bodies form clusters, spread out, cluster back together again.

That at least, will be a boon if I can actually make it to the elevator. 

I keep my fingers crossed, and hope with everything in me that the Actaeon will have at least a little bit of trouble taking his dog into the mall.

Sorry to all the actually blind people who need to bring their dogs…

Side stepping between a couple as they separate hands for half a moment, weaving between a brood of frazzled moms and oddly sugary toddlers, I manage to slip into an overly crowded elevator, squeeze into a corner, and prepare myself for the awkward part. 

Move fast. Don’t think, just hurry.

Good thing I always cut the tags off my sweatshirts anyway. 

Peeling off the heavy sweaty thing till I’m wearing no more than my tatty sports top and jeans, I turn the red hoodie inside out, exposing its fluffy white underbelly, and pull it back on in record time - i.e. before anyone but one elderly woman who I accidentally elbow seems to notice me. She looks at me sideways, but I’ve honestly reached a point of panic beyond caring.

Okay, jeans are fine, everyone wears jeans, no one should suspect that. 

Hurriedly, I shake my hair out of the high ponytail as we arrive at the second floor. Three people step off, but nobody else gets on.

Nevermind, we can still work with this. At least there’s a bit more space now for me to see myself in the reflection.

Tying my tresses into a low ponytail, I roll my hair under itself the way Judith taught me and secure it with a sturdy pin, giving my waist length hair the appearance of a short bob. 

Cute. Too bad I don’t have the liberty to wear my hair like this just for fun. When I was little, and this happened, Grammy cut off my pigtails.

I ride the elevator up to the food court on the mall’s top floor and back down again with the anticipated crowd - one family of five and a few college students who just finished lunch. 

Getting off on the third floor, I head straight to the closest beauty supply store and use a perfume sample at random-

That should trip up that doberman for a little while, at least.

I allow my own nose two seconds to adjust to its violent aversion to the smell, then I buy a package of hairbands with the credit card Therese gave me so if I go missing she and Verner will know where I was at least relatively close to my disappearance.

Now to just find that ‘special’ elevator.

Therese told me there’s one elevator in this mall that’s the only elevator with a button for level 4.5 of the parking garage, which Peacock Mall shares with Dove Mall right across from it.

I hate spending any time in parking garages at moments like these, but at least this one is a pretty straight shot-

The screaming in my head is starting to get a little crazy- a little less like ‘stay calm’ and a little more like-

FOR HEAVEN’S SAKE, MORA GLAS, IF YOU CARE ABOUT YOUR HIDE, MOVE MOVE MOVE MOVE MOVE-!!!

It takes everything in me to make myself stop shaking.

Fortunately, somebody else is getting into the elevator too, a tall, widish woman with lots of chocolate colored weave, mumbling into a bag of “Cocoa Glow Beauty” products.

That’s in Dove Mall. Please tell me she’s making some returns.

I stare through the glass walls of the elevator as we rise above each floor, trying to see if I can spot the Actaeon or his creepy dog -

A dog in a mall this packed would probably be easier to pick out-

But I don’t see anything, and I can’t pick out any dog smell, which means very little, but I guess it was still worth a try. 

As the elevator door opens, the woman hurries forward through the parking garage, and I do my best to match her brisk stride, trying to ignore the way my nerves jumped the second we stepped out into the sinister darkness.

Crap, she’s going straight to her car. Of course she is.

Okay, this is fine. This is fine. THIS IS-

I practically run through the garage and the entrance to Dove Mall.

It takes me 30 seconds. That’s twenty seconds too long. Twenty seconds that spell the difference between life and death.

If this was our little track back home, Grandma would make me run it again.

I don’t want to be closed in the confines of an elevator again. I don’t want to be out in the open of an escalator, but I’m not sure which is safer-

Opt for the escalator.

I tuck a strand of my hair ‘nonchalantly’ behind my ear. I smile like I’m texting someone as I call two taxis from two different services and tell them both to meet me at the corner - telling them that I need to go two different places-

I feel like a president or something taking all these precautions-

But at least The Sanctuary’s stipends will allow me to pay the poor driver I’ll have to dupe-

I’ve just stepped out onto the overly sunny sidewalk when I hear barking.

It sounds close- but how close-? It might not even be the same dog. Do I go back inside? For what? I’ll just be stuck again and it might not work a second time-

Fine, no time for the rigmarole-

I’m sorry-

Rushing up to the closest taxi cab I watch as the other driver’s face starts to turn red with frustration - or fury - as he realizes  - “Hey, what’s going on here?! Is this some sort of prank, little lady?”

‘Little lady’ in such a rough tone, almost sounds like a joke coming from a face that young-

-He can’t be more than 25. Might have better luck convincing him than the older more cantankerous drivers.

“I’ll transfer you the payment, sir-” I say hurriedly, letting the tremors out, even as I try to keep my voice low. “This is an emergency.”

This might be the only time it ever pays to look panicked.

I let the fear I’ve tried to keep locked up in my chest spill into my face and the man’s expression immediately shifts from anger to worry - bafflement - like he’s too confused to even try to believe me or not.

I should have paid first…but last time I did that one of the cabs didn’t show up at all, and Judith told me to assume…

I can’t trust anyone…don’t trust anyone as much as you can help it.

Every one of them might be working with an Actaeon, or the Actaeon, whatever on earth an Actaeon is-

The first taxi driver at least moves quickly, seeming to believe my concern is genuine. She asks no questions before pulling off and taking me in the direction of the George’s - studying me grimly in her rearview mirror until I’ve stopped glancing over my shoulder toward the other taxi which I see driving off in a different direction at least, if not the direction I wanted him to go in.

“Is somebody following you, Missy?” The woman asks in a low voice after a long stretch of silence.

I nod slowly, not trusting myself to speak as she watches the motion in her mirror.

“You going straight home to your parents?”

“Yes,” I lie and she nods, her mouth a taut line.

A block before the George’s neighborhood, I ask the taxi to let me out.

-I should text Mr. George or Judith. I shouldn’t walk straight up to the George’s place like everything’s fine and dandy - if that really was the Actaeon-

And he’s found his way to Larksborough too.

The woman seems to hesitate for a minute, looking at the line of row houses we’re parked in front of.

“You live here?” she asks motioning back and forth to the houses with a slim finger.

I start to say yes, but then I realize she’ll probably wait around to watch me get inside. So I shake my head.

“A block away. But your meter…”

“Forget about the meter, I won’t charge you for the ride.”

I almost suck my teeth.

Don’t take favors- they come back to bite you- especially when the people who help you out ‘for free’ change their minds - it complicates everything -

But the woman insists, “I’m driving you straight up to your house and not leaving until I see you walk through the door. The second you get inside you call 911 and give them a description of the man you saw, you understand?”

“Yes ma’am,” I swallow meekly, knowing there’s no way I’m going to do that.

Even if I told The Sanctuary…

Not ‘if’…when…

When I tell…

Everybody will be in big trouble if the police find out about this.

We learned that a long time ago. Sometimes the most well-meaning people have the loosest lips.

I can’t help but glance back at this woman as she parks in front of the George’s and I hurry inside, shutting the door behind me quickly.

How much will she talk about this, and how much will she know to keep quiet?

When the door is locked, I peep out through the peephole to watch her leave.

Too slowly. Please. Before Therese sees…

“Mora? Is that you, sweetie?” I hear Therese call from kitchen, but don’t reply, hurrying up the stairs and straight to my room - then to the bathroom - before anyone can ask me any more questions-

So I can figure out whether or not I’m going to lie to them.

Whether they’re something I can bear losing.