PART 2
For three seconds, I couldn’t speak.
The woman on the phone knew my name.
Not “hello.”
Not “who is this?”
She knew exactly who I was.
And somehow, she knew exactly what was happening.
My fingers tightened around the black phone.
“Who are you?”
The woman remained silent for a moment.
Then she said something that made the blood leave my face.
“My name is Mara Voss.”
I looked at Daniel.
His hands tightened around the steering wheel.
“You know her,” I whispered.
Daniel didn’t answer.
That was the answer.
The highway stretched ahead of us, dark and empty except for the black SUV following close behind.
Our son cried softly against my chest.
Six hours old.
Six hours into this world.
And already someone wanted to take him.
“Daniel.”
My voice shook.
“What is happening?”
His eyes stayed on the road.
“I was hoping you would never have to know.”
“That is not an answer.”
“I know.”
“Then start talking.”
The SUV slammed into us again.
The car swerved.
Daniel corrected the wheel quickly, but his face had changed.
The fear was gone.
Not because he was no longer afraid.
Because he had accepted something.
Something he had been running from for years.
“Mara,” Daniel said into the phone.
The woman answered immediately.
“I’m listening.”
“They found us.”
“I know.”
My stomach tightened.
“You know?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
A pause.
Then:
“Because they have been searching for Samuel since before he was born.”
I looked down at my baby.
Samuel.
The name sounded strange.
Beautiful.
Terrifying.
“Why?” I asked.
The woman’s voice softened.
