Please Come Back, My Love novel Chapter 156

Chapter 156

“There’s a town about twenty minutes ahead, Mom said, squinting at her phone. “Says they have a diner. Five-star reviews for their pancakes.”

“Pancakes sound good.” I kept my eyes on the road, scanning the oversized rearview mirrors out of habit.

Still no black sedan.

Maybe I really had been paranoid. Maybe it had just been some random traveler, and I’d let my fucked-up brain turn it into a conspiracy.

The town was exactly what you’d expect on a back-road route through Georgia. One main street. A hardware store. A post office. A diner with a faded sign

that read “Millie’s’ in peeling red letters.

I maneuvered the RV into the parking lot behind the diner and cut the engine.

“You okay to walk?” I asked Mom.

“I can walk.” She was already unbuckling her seatbelt, her jaw set in that stubborn way that meant arguing would be pointless. “I’m not an invalid yet,

Elena

Yet.

The word hung between us like a guillotine.

I helped her down from the RV anyway, steadying her when her legs wobbled slightly. She didn’t pull away. Just leaned into me for a second, then straightened up and headed toward the diner entrance.

That was when I felt it.

The weight of someone’s gaze. Heavy. Focused. Like a hand pressed between my shoulder blades.

I stopped in the middle of the parking lot and turned slowly, scanning the street.

Nothing.

Just a couple of pickup trucks. An old man walking his dog. A woman loading groceries.

But the feeling didn’t go away.

Someone was watching me.

“Elena?” Mom called from the diner doorway. “You coming?”

“Yeah. I forced my legs to move. Just thought I saw something.”

Inside, the diner smelled like coffee and bacon grease. We slid into a booth by the window, and I positioned myself so I could see the parking lot.

The waitress brought us menus and coffee. Mom ordered pancakes, I ordered eggs I wouldn’t be able to eat and kept my eyes on the window.

“You’re doing it again,’ Mom said quietly.

1/3

4:26 pm

Chapter 156-

Titre what?”

PPM

Looking for ghosts.

I wrapped my hands around the coffee mug. “I’m not-

“You are.” She reached across the table and covered my hand with hers. “Elena, if you’re worried about that car-

“I’m not worried. The lie tasted bitter. “I just… I have a bad feeling. Okay? And I’ve learned to trust my bad feelings.” –

Because the last time I’d ignored one, I’d ended up in a hospital bed with my baby dead and my wrists bandaged.

Mom’s expression softened. “Okay. So what do you want to do?”

I looked out the window again. At the empty street. The quiet town. The ordinary morning that fit anything but.

“I want to know who the fuck is following us,” I said flatly. “And I’m going to find out.”

The plan was simple.

After breakfast-which Mom ate and I pushed around my plate-we’d walk down the main street. Slow. Visible. Give whoever was watching a good, clear

look.

And when they made their move, I’d be ready.

“This is a bad idea,” Mom muttered as we stepped out of the diner.

“Probably.” I kept my voice light, my hand on her elbow to steady her. “But I’m tired of running blind.”

We started walking. Past the post office. Past the hardware store. I could feel it again-that crawling sensation of being watched. I didn’t turn around. Didn’t

give any sign that I knew.

Just kept walking.

Mom’s breathing was getting labored. I slowed down, pretending to look in a shop window.

And in the reflection-

There.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify