She had used that exit before.
She knew it was there.
But knowing something existed was different from keeping it in mind while thinking about dinner, an unanswered message, and a freezer bag warming in the sun.
One bulky package remained to be moved into the trunk.
Mara brought the cart beside the rear of her hatchback.
Then she let go.
The wheels did not announce the moment.
There was no sharp movement, no sudden clatter demanding attention.
The cart shifted a little.
One wheel turned.
Mara had already faced the car and placed her hands beneath the tailgate latch. She pressed it, heard the familiar click, and lifted.
Behind her, the cart began to roll.
Toby raised his head.
At first, the movement might have felt familiar. Mara pushed him in the same basket across the parking lot only moments earlier. He had watched cars and trees drift past while she talked to him.
But this time, her voice stayed behind.
The basket trembled over a rough patch of asphalt.
Toby lowered his body.
His claws pressed against the wire floor as the cart traveled farther from the parked hatchback. He turned toward Mara, who was leaning into the trunk.
The wheels rattled again.
He gave a small whine.
Mara moved a folded blanket to make room for the package.
Then came a second whine, higher than the first.
She recognized that sound.
It was the sound Toby made when a sudden noise frightened him in his sleep.
She turned.
For a fraction of a second, she could not understand the space beside her.
The cart should have been there.
Her mind seemed to hold its previous position even as her eyes found it several steps down the ramp.
Toby was inside.
The cart was moving.
No one was holding it.
“Oh—”
The word never became anything more.
She ran.
Her first steps were clumsy.
She struck the edge of a painted parking line, recovered, and drove herself forward. Her open shirt pulled against her shoulders. Behind her, the trunk remained raised.
The cart kept going.
“Toby!”
His head turned immediately.
That hurt more than if he had ignored her.
He heard his name and looked toward the person who usually made frightening things stop.
Mara lengthened her stride.
The shopping cart was not racing wildly. It was rolling with a steady, gathering confidence that made the situation worse. Every second she spent reaching its old position carried it farther toward the road.
She heard individual sounds with strange clarity.
Her sneakers hitting asphalt.
A loose wheel chattering.
Her breath dragging against the back of her throat.
Toby made another thin, anxious sound.
“Stay there,” she called. “Stay down.”
