I saw my wife’s face on a pillow in a stranger’s back window.

At first, I thought my mind was playing tricks on me.

It was a Thursday afternoon in late October, a little after four. Traffic on Route 9 had stopped dead because of an accident somewhere up ahead. I was sitting in my car with the radio on low, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel, thinking about what to make for dinner.

The car in front of me was an older gray SUV with a dent in the back bumper. Through the rear window, I could see a square pillow propped up against the glass. The kind you order online with a photo printed on it.

The photo showed a man kissing a smiling woman on the forehead.

The woman was wearing a green jacket. A thin silver necklace with a small round pendant. And she had a tiny mole just beside her left eyebrow.

My wife, Claire, had all three.

I’d bought that necklace for our second anniversary, at a little jewelry shop downtown. The woman behind the counter had wrapped it in white tissue paper and told me my wife was very lucky.

The green jacket had been hanging in our closet that morning. I’d moved it to get to my gray hoodie.

And the mole. I’d kissed that mole a thousand times.

I stared at that pillow until the car behind me honked. Traffic had started moving again. The gray SUV was already twenty feet ahead of me.

I put my foot on the gas.

And instead of taking my exit home, I followed it.