Julian didn’t pull out into traffic.

His truck stayed parked at the curb, watching us until Martha turned the corner toward her office.

“He’s keeping track of where you go every day,” Martha said, glancing in her rearview mirror as she drove.

“He knows what car you drive and where you park.”

“My Buick is registered in both our names,” I said quietly, feeling my bump press against the seatbelt.

“He threatened to pull the registration last week.”