Orpheus and Eurydice

"Walk in front of me, and don't look back until we reach the hotel. I'll follow," Sarah says.
"Why?"
"Just try it. No peeking," she says. "If you look back, I'll be gone. You won't see me again." I knew her enough that she could make those threats real, and better to amuse her than to anger.
So I walk ahead, being careful with my strides. The hotel is half an hour walk, through the humid city. I try to catch sight of her in rear view mirrors, shop windows or the sunglasses of strangers, but I do not see her. Soon, I am wondering if she is actually behind me. I call her name out twice but receive no reply. I am increasingly anxious. The sound of her voice, the smell of her scent, the rhythm of her footsteps all become evidently clear to me as I try to remember them. Was trying to use mirrors and reflections cheating? Did she spy me and thus fulfilled her threat?
The facade of the hotel looms into view. Soon I will look back and wonder if I will see her impish smile, or just the absence of her.