Chapter 5 - Wolves at the Gate
""Noah!"" I hissed, sprinting out of the study and taking the stairs two at a time.
My son opened the bedroom door instantly, his face pale with alarm. In his arms, Maya was fast asleep, wrapped snugly against his chest. ""Mom, what is it?""
""They're outside,"" I whispered, pushing him back toward the closet. ""Glenn didn't go to Columbus. He sent private investigators to track your cell phone. There’s an SUV parked right at our curb.""
Noah’s jaw set into a hard, stubborn line. ""They tracked the SIM card. I had to turn the phone on for thirty seconds outside the hospital to call a cab. I threw the battery away, but it must have been enough to ping the cell tower near the turnpike.""
""We are not letting them take her,"" I said, my voice steady and deadly calm. For twenty-four years, I had been the woman who smoothed over every rough edge, who begged everyone to stay quiet, who swallowed her pride to preserve the illusion of a happy home. But that woman died the second I read Glenn’s email ordering the erasure of this innocent newborn child. ""Grab your backpack. Take Maya’s formula and the extra blankets. We’re going through the basement.""
""Where can we go, Mom? Dad has connections with every precinct in the county. If Vance calls the local police and claims I took a newborn without parental consent, they'll arrest me before we can explain.""
""He won't call the police,"" I replied coldly, opening the hidden latch of the linen cabinet to pull out my emergency cash envelope and car keys. ""Glenn’s entire life is built on avoiding police reports. If a cruiser pulls up to this house, the neighborhood questions start, the local reporters start digging, and the board of directors cancels tomorrow’s CEO vote. He wants this quiet. That means Vance is here to intimidate us, not to file paperwork.""
A heavy, authoritative knock reverberated through the ground floor.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
""Mrs. Cross?"" a raspy, gravelly voice echoed through the front entryway. ""Mrs. Cross, this is Investigator Bradley Vance. We need to speak with you regarding your son. It’s a matter of urgent family security. Please open the door.""
We didn't answer. Moving with silent, practiced efficiency, I guided Noah down the back servant stairs that led straight into the unfinished basement. The concrete room was cold and smelled of damp earth and furnace oil. At the far end of the cellar sat an old storm cellar hatch that opened onto the wooded embankment behind our property—a remnant from the original farmhouse that had stood on this land seventy years ago.
I quietly lifted the rusted iron crossbar. Outside, the rain was coming down in torrential sheets, washing through the thick pine trees and masking the sound of our footsteps.
May you like
""My car is parked in the detached garage by the rear alley,"" I whispered, shielding Maya’s tiny face from the cold droplets with my woolen scarf. ""If we move through the tree line, they won't see us from the street.""
We slipped through the hatch into the churning mud. Behind us, the sudden, violent sound of our home’s heavy front door being kicked off its latch echoed through the trees.
