Chapter 6
Grace couldn’t wait to be done with the day. She was minutes away from home when a torrential downpour began in classic Florida fashion.
Storms here felt like careless gods playing games with the mortals below. Some would deluge a town for hours, while others would appear for five minutes before losing interest and quickly moving on.
She told herself this one was just a sun storm.
It would probably go away as quickly as it had come.
Still, Grace slowed to five miles below the speed limit, pumping her brakes every once in a while, because her halmeoni once told her it helped avoid hydroplaning.
Cars zoomed past her on the left, some of them letting out long anxiety-inducing honks.
But Grace let her fingers settle into the well-worn grooves from Halmeoni’s hands, and it helped calm her a bit.
Of course the rain stopped as soon as she cut the engine in front of her house.
She hurried to the end of the drive to get the mail before it started pouring again.
But as she sorted through the bills and junk mail, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up, like the static of the storm still sat on the air. A feeling that said she wasn’t alone.
Grace told herself that was normal. One of her neighbors must be outside, but it just felt…more than that. And sure enough, when she glanced around, she spotted the boy from the library. He was standing across the street with arms crossed as he stared at her.
Grace hurried to close the mailbox, but in her rush, she dropped everything. She bent to pick up soggy bills and coupon books from the ground.
“Great,” she groaned as she shook out one of the muddy envelopes.
“Do you need help?” said a voice behind her, way too close. And she almost cursed. She should have just left the mail and gone into the safety of the house. Where there was a lock and an alarm.
Grace hugged the damp mail to her chest like a shield as she turned to face the boy. He was still as gorgeous as she remembered.
“No, I’m good.”
“We need to talk.”
“It was self-defense!” she blurted out.
“What?” And his perplexed look was horrifyingly familiar. An expression she’d drawn dozens of times on the teen sun god in her webtoon.
Her throat constricted until she was coughing.
“Are you okay?” He leaned toward her, and she scrambled away, tripping into the road to put distance between them.
“You need to leave or I’m calling the police.”
“Why?”
“What?” she sputtered out. That was not the response she’d expected. But then again, just the mention of authority always made her nervous. She supposed he didn’t have the same anxiety issues she did.
Would this be trespassing? Or stalking? Could she even prove stalking without bringing up her own wild theory about webtoon doppelg?ngers?
“Listen, whatever made you come here, I can’t help you,” she said, backing farther into the street to put more distance between them. If she had to run, could she?
“You can’t just avoid me forever,” he said, following after her.
“Leave me alone!” Grace shouted right before she heard the telltale rev of an engine.
Turning, she saw Chuck Wilson’s sleek black BMW barreling down the road, taking the corner wide. Going too fast to slow down, even as he sped directly toward her.