# Chapter 28: The Girl Who Saw Andrea
Hello everyone, it’s me again! How are you all doing? Today I will continue to walk with you and review Chapter 28 of "Forget You Saw Her free digital audiobook." And wow, what a chapter this is. It begins with something as ordinary as a lamb sandwich and ends with a question that made my skin prickle: “Who are you?” Not to Sabina. To Andrea. To the ghost no one else can see.
We open with Andrea watching Sabina eat at the Salty Sheep, and she is jealous. Not hungry in the way the living get hungry, but aching for the experience of food. The sigh after a perfect bite. The comfort of something delicious. Andrea remembers how rare that was in her life. Bunny didn’t like to cook, so meals were usually Dino Nuggets or Chef Boyardee. Dennis could make simple things—grilled cheese, spaghetti—but there was always a price. A gleam in his eye that meant Andrea would pay for that meal later. Her school lunches were beans and rice, day after day, because Bunny had stocked ten gigantic #10 cans of each from her Mormon Cannery days and refused to buy more until they were gone. Andrea had nearly made it through all ten cans when Dennis killed her.
That’s the cruel little math of her afterlife. She never got to finish the beans. She never got to taste sushi, filet mignon, tiramisu, risotto. She never got a first kiss, a boyfriend, a place of her own, a first job, college, travel beyond Ogden, Utah. She never learned to ski, ride a horse, or play guitar. The list of stolen futures stretches out like a road she can’t walk.
Then the car starts acting strange. A check-engine light flashes in time with a high-pitched whistling sound. Sabina pulls off the main road, stops, and Googles “whistling noise check engine light.” Andrea half-heartedly apologizes. She realizes her emotions might be causing the sound and the light—this strange ghost-party trick—but it’s losing its appeal. What does it matter if she can make a light blink? Restless, she scans the neighborhood of little brick houses. Nothing looks familiar.
Until something does.
A boxy white sedan is idling two blocks behind them. Tinted windshield. No visible driver. Andrea studies the license plate, something she never could have done at that distance while alive, and flips through her memories. She doesn’t have to go far. The last time she saw that car, her dismembered body was in its trunk, separated into trash bags that Dennis drove to a construction site under cover of darkness. The license plate is a perfect match.
“Shit,” she whispers.
Dennis is following Sabina. The man who asked for a protective order is now tailing her. He’s keeping tabs. Nadia was right—he’s scared of what Sabina might dig up. Andrea is thrilled and terrified at once. She wants Sabina to find the truth more than anything, but not if it puts her in Dennis’s crosshairs. What would he do if she got too close?
Andrea tries to warn her. “Look behind you. Dennis is following you.” But Sabina hears nothing. She is relieved the check-engine light has gone dark, already focused on the Maps app. Andrea keeps her eyes on the white Honda Accord. It stays put while Sabina makes a U-turn and drives past it. Then, as she leaves the neighborhood, the Accord makes its own U-turn and follows.
“Turn around, notice the car,” Andrea nearly yells. But she knows her verbal instructions are unreliable. Random sounds are easier. Earlier, while Sabina ate her sandwich, Andrea laid out the whole story of what Dennis did with her body—how he separated her legs from her torso—and Sabina just kept eating. She didn’t hear a word.
Sabina glances in the rearview mirror, but the Accord is two cars back. She looks slightly on edge, but she has no idea. The Maps app announces the destination is on the left. They stop beside a white brick building: OGDEN FOOD MINISTRY. It’s been closed for about forty minutes. Sabina sighs, puts the car in park, checks her phone. The Accord pulls over across the street. Andrea watches it, helpless.
Then Sabina drives away from the food bank. The Accord follows. Andrea hopes they’re going back to the Airbnb. Instead, Sabina follows the directions a few more blocks and stops again. This time, they’re on an empty two-lane road beneath an underpass. Weedy gravel, trash fluttering in the evening light, harsh shadow under the concrete. This must be one of the encampments on Sabina’s list.
“Stay in the car! What are you doing? I’m not here. I’ve never even seen this place before,” Andrea hisses, grabbing Sabina’s forearm. But Sabina removes the key and steps out anyway. Andrea’s fingers stay laced around her arm, and she is tugged along like an invisible balloon.
Above them, the highway thrums like a steady heartbeat. Down here, there is no traffic. A grocery cart missing a front wheel sits in the gravel. Faded blankets, a dust-caked sweatshirt, peanuts scattered near the wheels—peanuts, of all things. Old rain-damaged magazines flap in the basket. Blue and red graffiti looks like someone once tried to scrub it away. Sabina’s wide eyes move from one detail to the next as she squints into the shadows.
Andrea keeps watching the Accord. Terror bubbles up, and she doesn’t try to tamp it down. “Come on,” she hisses. Then a car door slams. The sound cuts through the traffic like a gunshot. Sabina whirls toward the Accord. For a few seconds, her eyes linger.
“Yes, good! Now get out of here! He’s in the white car,” Andrea cries, proud that she finally made the right sound.
Then something rustles beneath the underpass. Sabina forgets the car door and spins back toward the shadows. Andrea is about to make a mad dash for Dennis’s car—maybe try police sirens again—when she sees something that stops her.
A young woman emerges from the darkness near the shopping cart. She wears a hoodie pulled up, strings tied so tight only her eyes and nose are visible. She is pretty, about Andrea’s age, maybe a few years off. She doesn’t give Sabina more than a passing glance. But when her head swivels toward Andrea, her big pale brown eyes narrow.
Andrea stares, impolite in a way she never would have been while alive. Because what does it matter? The girl isn’t really looking at her. She’s looking through her.
Except she isn’t walking by. She isn’t speaking to Sabina. She is looking at the empty space where Andrea stands.
“Who are you?” the girl murmurs.
And Andrea knows, the second the words leave the girl’s mouth, that she is somehow, impossibly, speaking to her.
## Reader’s Impressions & Star Rating
This chapter hit me harder than I expected. It starts with such a human ache—wanting one good meal, one first kiss, one ordinary future—and then tightens into pure dread. The white Honda Accord in the rearview mirror is terrifying because it turns the past into a predator. Dennis isn’t just a memory; he’s back, following Sabina, and Andrea can do almost nothing to stop him. The underpass scene is haunting, and the final line is a perfect cliffhanger. I felt Andrea’s loneliness, her rage, her fear, and then that jolt of impossible hope when the hooded girl speaks to her.
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Rating: 4.9 / 5 Stars
## Next Chapter Prediction
I think the hooded girl at the underpass is either another ghost—someone else tied to Dennis or to the camp—or a living person with the rare ability to see the dead. That question, “Who are you?”, is going to change everything. Andrea may finally have someone who can hear her, which means she might be able to warn Sabina directly. But Dennis is still parked nearby, and the danger is closing in fast. My prediction: the girl will reveal she has seen Andrea before, or she will know something about the missing women. Sabina will notice the girl acting strangely, and the two of them may form an uneasy alliance—while Dennis decides it’s time to stop following and start acting.
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