Eliana's POV
Eliana pushed her cart slowly down the aisle, one hand on the handle, the other brushing the edge of the shelf. The fluorescent lights above buzzed faintly, too bright, too harsh. She picked up a jar of olives without really seeing it.
That feeling again.
Like someone was watching.
Her skin prickled under her blouse. She lifted her head, eyes sweeping over the other shoppers—an old man choosing bread, a mother with a toddler, a teenager scrolling on her phone by the dairy section.
No one seemed out of place. Still, her chest felt tight, her ears tuned to every small sound, every shuffle of footsteps behind her.
She set the jar back down and moved to the checkout.
Outside, the air was heavier, late afternoon clouds hanging low. She slid her bags into the back seat of her car and started the engine, glancing at the mirrors out of habit.
That was when she noticed it.
A blue sedan, two cars behind. Windows tinted. Lights off even though the sky had darkened.
