I saw something, or thought I did, and froze. There, in profile, seated on my side at the opposite end of the car, was a bald head that I swore I’d seen in the Nissan. I could make out the same pale face and snub nose. I couldn’t be sure. My most rational self thought, You’re seeing things. But as the train stopped, I felt uncomfortable enough to slip out before my station. I pushed onto the crowded platform, looking over my shoulder.
