“Christopher.”
I turned.
She looked exhausted.
“Technically…”
She gave a broken laugh.
“You’re family.”
I didn’t know what to say.
Neither did she.
Then my phone buzzed.
A text.
Unknown number.
I opened it.
YOU SHOULD HAVE KEPT DRIVING.
Below the message was a photograph.
My house.
Taken from across the street.
And through the front window, clearly visible beneath the living-room lights…
were my two daughters.
PART 7 — THE MAN WHO WANTED ME GONE MADE ONE FINAL MISTAKE
I don’t remember running.
I remember the elevator.
Daniel shouting.
Security moving.
Eleanor grabbing my arm.
Then somehow I was inside a black SUV racing toward my neighborhood.
I called Sophie.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
My hands shook so badly I nearly dropped the phone.
“Call the police,” Daniel said.
“I am.”
Lucy finally answered.
“Dad?”
Air rushed back into my lungs.
“Lucy, where are you?”
“At your house.”
