Mirror Images

Suicide forgets to close the door. Old regrets creep in disguised as new. The idea of Ross Bauer ending his own life seared, but I couldn’t stop wondering how he’d done it. Black thoughts for a starless night. I’d fled Chicago eight hours ago headed north for the funeral, and my eyes and shoulders burned. Without the city’s backlighting, the trees and underbrush crowding the narrow highway loomed like twisted sentinels. 
When my cell buzzed, I groped for my purse. I’d spotted several deer grazing in the ditch and couldn’t afford a trip to the ER. I glanced at the display. Great. I eased off the gas, muted the Tchaikovsky bolstering my confidence, and squared my shoulders. 
“What’s up?” 
“You tell me,” Tony said. “Did you get the money?” 
My eyes darted to the photo I’d propped against the speedometer. Angie was a beautiful baby with big brown eyes and rosy cheeks. I shuddered despite the mild temperature. “The bank messed up the paperwork, but first thing tomorrow I’ll—” 
“Save it, Madison. Your office said you quit and left town. Are you trying to kill your—” 
“Please….” I hated to grovel but nothing mattered now except Angie. “Don’t worry. I’ve got it under control.” 
“I’m not the one with everything to lose, M.J. What if the old man had called your boss instead of me?” 
I struggled for composure. They knew everything about me. I knew nothing about them—except they had Angie. “Tell him not to panic. I’m on my way right now to get the money from the family of an old friend.” 
“Must be quite a friend.” 
“They have a vested interest.” 
“For your sake, I hope so. The birthmother’s having second thoughts.” 
The band constricting my chest tightened. “But she picked me.” I hated the whiny edge in my voice, but when I’d realized the girl was only fifteen, I stayed up all night updating my online portfolio with pictures and info I knew would appeal to a girl her age. I even claimed to like Justin Bieber. “She can’t—” 
“She can and will unless you get back here with the deposit. I’ll try—” 
I saw eyes in the headlights seconds before my brain processed the animal in the road. I dropped the phone, slammed on the brakes, and braced my arms. The sporty convertible skidded to a stop, barely missing the doe trapped in the glare of oncoming disaster. I knew how she felt. Leaning my head against the steering wheel, I sucked in air and tried not to cry. 
Hooves clattered against pavement as the deer scrambled for safety. I heard the scream of crickets and the staccato of panic in my ears. Tony’s voice hummed from somewhere on the passenger seat, but I didn’t bother to look for my phone. 
I cranked up the music and punched the accelerator. Caution was no longer an option. 

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