The reply came back almost instantly, and it wasn’t what I had anticipated.

“Who’s that in the reflection?”

I frowned, reading his words again, unsure of what he meant. I hadn’t seen anyone. “What reflection?” I typed back, a slight unease building.

“The rear window. There’s someone there,” he replied, his tone suddenly more serious.

Heart pounding, I opened the photo and zoomed in, focusing on the rear window’s reflection. At first, I assumed it was just a glare, maybe a trick of the light or a shadow from the trees. But as I studied it more closely, my stomach twisted. There was, indeed, a figure—a faint outline of a person standing just behind me. The more I looked, the more familiar the shape became. A man in a hat, his face obscured by the brim’s shadow.

My breath caught. It looked just like the hat my ex-boyfriend used to wear, one he was rarely seen without.

A chill ran through me. I had been alone, hadn’t I? I hadn’t noticed anyone when I took the picture, and the field was empty, just me and the truck. But there he was, unmistakably standing close enough to be caught in the window’s reflection. How was this even possible?

I tried to calm my husband with a hasty reply. “It’s probably just a shadow or something from the background. I was definitely alone.” But even I felt the uncertainty in my words.