Then She Was Gone

by Lisa Jewell

May was like the Friday night of summer: all the good times lying ahead of you, bright and shiny and waiting to be lived.

Is there something odd about him, anything a bit off? Is she failing to read warning signs? Is he going to scam her, rape her, abduct her, stalk her? Is he mad? Is he bad? She asks these silent internalized questions of everyone she meets.

And he was probably sitting in a café somewhere right now, sharing a slice of carrot cake with someone else.

She can’t imagine that she’d ever found this man’s touch pleasing. She can’t imagine she’d ever found this man anything other than terrifying.