Chapter 3
Daniel grabbed Mom’s phone.
“Driver, change route.”
The SUV turned so hard I slammed against Mom.
Two other black vehicles followed us.
Daniel pressed his earpiece.
“Possible transport compromise. Hale is loose. Nobody uses the original safe location.”
Mom looked at him.
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
“You had him.”
“I know.”
“He was handcuffed.”
“I know, Sarah.”
“Then how is he free?”
Daniel didn’t answer.
That frightened me.
I watched cars pass outside.
Every driver suddenly looked like Dad.
Every dark SUV looked dangerous.
Mom pulled me closer.
“I won’t let him take you.”
I whispered, “He already knows where we were going?”
“No.”
Daniel turned.
“Emily, did your father ever use your phone?”
“I don’t have one.”
“Tablet?”
“Sometimes.”
“Did he know about the emergency phone?”
“No.”
Mom interrupted.
“I kept it hidden.”
“Did anyone else know?”
Mom hesitated.
Daniel noticed.
“Sarah.”
“My mother.”
His expression hardened.
“What?”
“I told her years ago.”
“Why?”
“She’s my mother.”
Daniel stared at her.
“You were told not to contact anyone from your old life.”
“I know.”
“When?”
“After Emily was born.”
He rubbed his forehead.
“You contacted Linda Bennett?”
“Once.”
“Once?”
Mom looked away.
“More than once.”
I stared at her.
“Grandma Linda knows?”
Mom squeezed my hand.
“I wanted you to have some family.”
I felt dizzy.
Grandma Linda lived in another state.
At least that was what I had always believed.
She sent packages without return addresses.
She called from different numbers.
Dad hated when Mom talked to her.
Now I understood why.
Or thought I did.
Daniel leaned toward Mom.
“Did Linda know your current address?”
“No.”
“Emily’s school?”
Mom’s face changed.
“Sarah.”
“She knew the school name.”
Daniel cursed.
Mom immediately said, “She would never—”
“Your husband turned out to be the son of the man you testified against.”
Daniel’s voice remained low.
“This is not the moment to tell me what family would never do.”
Mom went quiet.
Daniel called someone.
“Trace Linda Bennett. Phones, cards, vehicles. Quietly.”
A voice answered through his earpiece.
I couldn’t hear the words.
Then Daniel’s expression shifted.
“When?”
Mom grabbed his arm.
“What?”
He ended the call.
“Linda bought a plane ticket three days ago.”
Mom swallowed.
“To where?”
Daniel looked directly at her.
“Our city.”
“No.”
“She landed yesterday morning.”
Mom stared at him.
“That’s impossible.”
“Her card was used at the airport.”
“Why didn’t she call me?”
Daniel didn’t answer.
Mom did.
“Oh, God.”
The SUV pulled into an underground parking garage.
A steel door closed behind us.
Agents surrounded the vehicle.
Daniel opened our door.
“We’re changing cars.”
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Somewhere Ryan doesn’t know.”
A woman handed Mom a baseball cap and jacket.
Another gave me a sweatshirt.
I looked around.
Concrete walls.
Bright lights.
Armed people.
It felt like a movie.
Except Mom’s lip was bleeding.
Movies weren’t supposed to smell like blood and gasoline.
We entered a different SUV.
Daniel climbed into the front.
Before the doors closed, a young agent hurried toward him.
“Sir.”
He held out a tablet.
Daniel looked at the screen.
“What is that?”
“Traffic camera.”
Mom leaned forward.
I did too.
The picture showed Dad standing beside a police cruiser.
A uniformed officer was opening the back door for him.
Not forcing him inside.
Helping him.
Daniel’s face became hard.
“Officer name?”
“Mark Ellison.”
Mom whispered, “The neighbor?”
I looked at her.
“What?”
She stared at the image.
“Mark lives two streets from us.”
I remembered him.
Officer Ellison.
He had come to our school safety day.
He once gave me a sticker shaped like a badge.
Dad invited him to our barbecue last summer.
They stood beside the grill drinking beer.
Laughing.
My stomach hurt.
Daniel asked, “How long has he known Ryan?”
Mom whispered, “Years.”
The agent swiped the screen.
“Ellison intercepted transport at Oak and Fifth. Claimed a traffic collision required rerouting.”
“And our team believed him?”
“He had valid credentials.”
“Where is Ellison now?”
“Missing.”
Daniel looked at Mom.
“This wasn’t an escape.”
“No.”
“It was a pickup.”
The vehicle started moving again.
Mom stared at the floor.
I whispered, “Dad has police helping him?”
Daniel looked back.
“One police officer.”
“How do you know it’s only one?”
He didn’t answer.
Again.
We drove for almost an hour.
Nobody told me where.
Eventually we entered a building through another underground garage.
There were no signs.
No windows downstairs.
Upstairs, the apartment looked almost normal.
Couch.
Kitchen.
Two bedrooms.
Nothing on the walls.
No family photos.
Daniel checked every room personally.
Then he spoke to Mom.
“You stay inside.”
“For how long?”
“Until I know who compromised transport.”
Mom folded her arms.
“I’m not hiding forever again.”
“You’re not hiding. I’m keeping you alive.”
“I spent twelve years being kept alive.”
“And it worked.”
She flinched.
Daniel softened.
“Sarah, I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I was there.”
That made me look at him.
Mom stared too.
Daniel continued.
“I was the deputy marshal who moved you the first night.”
“You were twenty-eight.”
“And terrified you’d bolt.”
“You threatened to handcuff me to the seat.”
“You tried to open the car door at sixty miles an hour.”
For the first time all night, Mom almost smiled.
It disappeared quickly.
I looked between them.
“You knew Mom before Dad?”
Daniel nodded.
“Long before.”
“Why didn’t I know you?”
Mom answered.
“Because knowing him could have exposed us.”
Daniel crouched in front of me.
“Your mom protected you by making her world very small.”
I thought about our life.
Mom never posted online.
Never joined school groups.
Never let people photograph her.
She never took me to Chicago even though I begged.
She always sat facing the door in restaurants.
Things I thought were strange suddenly had reasons.
“Did Dad know all this when he married her?”
Daniel’s expression darkened.
“We’re trying to find out exactly when he learned.”
Mom whispered, “I know when.”
Daniel looked at her.
She went to the borrowed jacket hanging over a chair.
From the inside pocket, she removed a small silver key.
“I found this with his second phone.”
Daniel took it.
“What does it open?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why didn’t you give it to me before?”
“Because I was scared.”
“Of Ryan?”
Mom shook her head.
“Of what I’d find.”
Daniel examined the numbers engraved on the key.
“Bank box.”
Mom stared.
“You’re sure?”
“Looks like it.”
He photographed it.
I sat at the kitchen table.
My cheek throbbed.
A female agent brought an ice pack.
“Hold this here.”
“Thanks.”
She smiled.
“I’m Agent Torres.”
“Are you staying?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have kids?”
She paused.
“A son.”
“How old?”
“Fourteen.”
“Does he know you do this?”
“Not all of it.”
“Why?”
“Because sometimes parents hide frightening things because they think it keeps children safe.”
Mom looked at me from across the room.
I knew Agent Torres hadn’t said it accidentally.
I put the ice pack down.
“I’m tired of people hiding things.”
Mom’s eyes filled.
“I know.”
“No more secrets.”
“I promise.”
Daniel immediately said, “Sarah.”
She looked at him.
“What?”
“Don’t promise what you can’t control.”
Mom’s face tightened.
But I understood.
She sat beside me.
“I will tell you everything I’m allowed to tell you.”
“That’s not the same.”
“No.”
“At least it’s true.”
“Yes.”
Daniel’s phone rang.
He walked toward the windowless hall.
Then stopped.
“What?”
We all watched him.
He put the call on speaker.
A man’s voice came through.
“Cole, we found the transport vehicle.”
“Where?”
“Industrial district.”
“Officers?”
A pause.
“One injured. One unconscious.”
“And Hale?”
“Gone.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Ellison?”
“Gone too.”
“Any cameras?”
“Working on it.”
The voice hesitated.
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
“We recovered a bag.”
Mom stood.
“What bag?”
Daniel raised a hand.
“What’s inside?”
“Photos.”
The agent on the phone sounded disturbed.
“Hundreds.”
Daniel’s face changed.
“Photos of what?”
“Sarah and the girl.”
Mom stopped breathing.
I stared at him.
The voice continued.
“School pickup. Grocery store. Playground. Their house.”
I felt sick.
“How long?”
Daniel asked the question quietly.
“How long have they been watching?”
The answer came.
“Earliest photo is dated eight years ago.”
Mom sat down hard.
I was ten.
Eight years.
Dad had married Mom eleven years ago.
They had been photographing us almost my whole life.
Mom whispered, “Ryan knew.”
Daniel said nothing.
Mom repeated it.
“He knew.”
Her voice broke.
“He didn’t discover who I was three months ago.”
She looked at me.
“He always knew.”
A sound came from the apartment hallway.
Three knocks.
Everyone froze.
Agent Torres drew her weapon.
Daniel held up one finger.
Nobody moved.
Three more knocks.
Then a woman’s voice called through the door.
“Sarah?”
Mom went white.
I recognized the voice.
Grandma Linda.
“Sarah, sweetheart, open the door.”
Daniel stared at Mom.
Mom stared at the door.
Grandma called again.
“I know you’re in there.”
May you like
My blood turned cold.
Because nobody had told Grandma Linda where we were.
