I squeezed the plastic handle of the grocery cart so tightly that my knuckles turned a bruised white. I felt physically paralyzed, staring at the back of this unfamiliar, slender young woman inspecting a row of cupcakes.
I knew I could not just walk away. The terrifying seed of doubt had been planted, and ignoring it would be emotional suicide.
I took a deep, shaky breath, physically forcing my lungs to expand. I released the cart handle, stepped away from Toby, and took three slow steps toward the bakery case.
“Excuse me,” I said, my voice trembling despite my desperate attempt to control it.
The woman turned around. She was young, likely in her early twenties, with long, highlighted blonde hair cascading down her shoulders. She wore a light, floral sundress that seemed entirely out of place for the cool autumn weather. She offered a carefree, confused smile.
