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outside, no one was on the street. The man had gone.
I don’t know why I told Barbie about it. I don’t like her or trust her—but I was scared, I suppose, and I needed someone to talk to, and she happened to be there. We had a drink, which was unlike me, and I burst into tears. Barbie stared at me wide-eyed, silent for once. After I finished, she put down her bottle of wine and said, “This calls for something stronger.” She poured us a couple of whiskeys.
“Here.” She gave it to me. “You need this.”
She was right—I needed it. I knocked it back and felt a kick from it. Now it was my turn to listen, while Barbie talked. She didn’t want to scare me, she said, but it didn’t sound good. “I’ve seen this on like a million TV shows. He’s studying your house, okay? Before he makes his move.”
“You think he’s a burglar?”
Barbie shrugged. “Or a rapist. Does that matter? It’s bad news, whatever it is.”
I laughed. I felt relieved and grateful that someone was taking me seriously—even if it was just Barbie. I showed her the photo on my phone, but she wasn’t impressed.
“Text it to me so I can look at it with my glasses on. It looks like a blurry smudge to me. Tell me. Have you mentioned this to your husband yet?”
I decided to lie. “No. Not yet.”
Barbie gave me a funny look. “Why not?”
“I don’t know, I suppose I worry Gabriel might think I’m exaggerating—or imagining it.”
“Are you imagining it?”
“No.”
Barbie looked pleased. “If Gabriel doesn’t take you seriously, we’ll go to the police together. You and me. I can be very persuasive, believe me.”
“Thanks, but I’m sure that won’t be necessary.”
“It’s already necessary. Take this seriously, honey. Promise me you’ll tell Gabriel when he gets home?”
I nodded. But I had already decided not to say anything further to Gabriel. There was nothing to tell. I have no proof the man was following me or watching me. Barbie was right, the photo proves nothing.
It was all in my imagination—that’s what Gabriel will say. Best not to say anything to him at all and risk upsetting him again. I don’t want to bother him.
I’m going to forget all about it.