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On my way to my son’s house, I stopped for gas when a stranger suddenly warned me, “Don’t go. You’ll regret it.” I snapped back, “What the hell are you talking about?” He looked at me with pity and said, “Twenty minutes. You’ll understand.” Soon after I drove away, something terrible happened. / Chapter 1 / 3

PART 1: THE STRANGER AT PUMP SIX

My name is Margaret Whitaker.

I used to believe a mother always knew when something was wrong with her child.

I believed I could hear the fear in my son’s voice.

I believed Daniel would always be honest with me.

But that evening, I learned something terrifying.

Sometimes the people closest to you are the ones who hide the biggest secrets.

It was a cold November afternoon in suburban Ohio.

The sky was gray.

The wind pushed dead leaves across the road.

Everything felt strangely quiet as I drove toward my son’s house.

Daniel had called me that morning.

His voice sounded different.

Not angry.

Not sad.

Just tense.

“Mom, can you come over tonight?”

“Of course,” I replied.

There was a pause.

Then he said:

“We need to talk.”

Those four words stayed with me all day.

A mother knows when her child is hiding something.

And Daniel was hiding something.

I stopped at a small gas station off Route 42 to fill up my tank.

The station was almost empty.

Just a few cars.

A flickering sign.

A cashier sitting behind the window.

I stepped outside and started pumping gas.

That was when I noticed him.

A man walking toward me from the side of the building.

He wore a dark hoodie.

His hands were in his pockets.

His face looked tired.

Not dangerous.

Just worried.

Still, I tightened my grip on my purse.

He stopped a few feet away.

Then he said something that made my blood run cold.

“Don’t go.”

I blinked.

“What?”

He looked directly at me.

“Don’t go to your son’s house.”

My fingers froze around the gas nozzle.

The machine continued counting.

Numbers climbing.

But all I could hear was my heartbeat.

“Excuse me?”

His expression softened.

Almost like he felt sorry for me.

“You’ll regret it.”

A chill ran through me.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

He looked toward the road.

Then back at me.

“Twenty minutes.”

I stared at him.

“Twenty minutes until what?”

But he didn’t answer.

He simply walked away.

Fast.

He disappeared behind a delivery truck and was gone.

I stood there completely frozen.

For a moment, I considered calling Daniel.

But then my pride spoke.

Maybe the man was crazy.

Maybe he wanted attention.

Maybe he had heard my conversation and was trying to frighten me.

I finished pumping gas.

Got into my car.

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