Chapter 4 - DANIEL
“Don’t move!”
The boy’s hands shook so badly the gun barrel danced between Ethan and me.
Ethan lowered his weapon first.
“Daniel.”
The child flinched.
“Don’t call me that.”
“What should I call you?”
“Adam.”
Ethan swallowed.
“Okay. Adam.”
The boy couldn’t have been older than seven.
He was thinner than Noah.
Paler.
Dark circles under his eyes.
But he was standing.
Strong enough to hold the gun.
Strong enough to run.
That alone told me something.
“Adam,” I said gently, “my name is Claire.”
“I know.”
Of course he knew.
Margaret had been watching me.
“Who gave you the gun?”
He didn’t answer.
“Margaret?”
His eyes flicked toward the tunnel.
That was enough.
Ethan took one step.
“Stay back!”
The gun fired.
The shot exploded in the small room.
I dropped.
Ethan staggered.
“Ethan!”
He looked down.
Blood spread across his sleeve.
The bullet had grazed his upper arm.
The boy screamed.
“I didn’t mean to!”
I moved before Ethan’s men could rush in.
“Everybody stop!”
I held up both hands.
“Adam, look at me.”
He was crying now.
“She said you’d kill me.”
“No one is going to kill you.”
“She said he killed my mom.”
Ethan went white.
“Rebecca?”
“She said my real dad wanted us dead.”
Ethan stepped forward again.
I grabbed his jacket.
“Not now.”
His breathing was heavy.
He wanted his son.
But this boy didn’t know him.
To Daniel, Ethan Caldwell was the monster in a story someone else had written.
I knelt.
“Adam, where is Margaret?”
He wiped his nose with his sleeve.
“She said I had to wait here.”
“For what?”
“For her to come back.”
“Did she say where she was going?”
He nodded.
“To get Noah.”
Ethan turned so fast I barely saw him move.
He ran.
I scooped Daniel into my arms and followed.
The tunnel felt endless.
By the time we reached the mansion, alarms were screaming.
One guard was down near the kitchen.
Another leaned against the wall holding his bleeding shoulder.
“Where’s Noah?” Ethan shouted.
The wounded guard pointed upstairs.
“Woman in medical scrubs. We thought she was from Dr. Mercer’s team.”
My blood froze.
“Mercer?”
Noah’s neurologist.
Ethan ran upstairs.
I followed with Daniel.
Noah’s bedroom door was open.
Empty.
Window open.
Curtain blowing in the wind.
On the bed sat Noah’s stuffed dinosaur.
And a note.
Ethan picked it up.
His hand shook.
“What does it say?” I asked.
He read aloud.
“You got one son back. Now earn the other.”
Below it was an address.
An abandoned surgical center forty miles away.
And a time.
11:00 p.m.
Ethan checked his watch.
We had fifty-six minutes.
Daniel tugged my sleeve.
“She won’t take him there.”
Ethan looked at him.
“What?”
Daniel’s face was pale.
“That’s where she tells people she’s going.”
“How do you know?”
“Because when she lies, she always uses the hospital.”
I crouched beside him.
“Then where would she take Noah?”
Daniel stared at Ethan.
“To the place where she keeps the people who know the truth.”
Ethan’s voice dropped.
“What place?”
May you like
Daniel pointed toward the floor.
“Under your house.”
