They say you always remember the moment your life changes. For Rowan, it was a sharp glance from behind a dirty windshield.
The white car didn't belong in Hollow Pines. Everyone knew everyone here. You could name the dogs before the neighbors. So when it slowed in front of the old Maryland Bank, windows tinted too dark for a legal drive-by, she felt it before she understood it—wrong. The kind of wrong that makes your lungs go shallow and your stomach coil like barbed wire.
She was alone. Scootering like usual. Headphones around her neck, music barely humming. Her mom had just called. Almost home, she'd said.
Rowan glanced toward the highway. Her dad's truck. Behind it, the white car. It didn't follow them. It turned—into town.
And it stared. Or rather, the driver did. A man, face mostly obscured, but something in the angle of his head was off. Too still. Too focused.
Seconds later, her dad pulled up to the curb. His voice didn't match his face—calm words, panicked eyes.
"Go home. Now."
She didn't ask questions. Just bolted.
Her legs burned, the scooter rattled against uneven pavement, and the wind stung her eyes. She made it as far as the firehall before she had to stop. She turned—just once—and there it was.
That same white car.
Not following her.
Hunting.
Her dad's truck came around the corner like a war cry. Then her mom's car. Like hounds behind the wolf.
The white car peeled off. Disappeared.
But the damage was done. A game had been started.
And Rowan?
She'd just made the list.
YOU ARE READING
WHITE CAR
Mystery / ThrillerIt started with a white car, appearing out of nowhere. Rowan didn't know why it kept following her, or why it made her heart race every time she saw it. But the more she tried to forget, the more it lingered. And now, it feels like the car knows too...
