The Window

"We're going on a trip, Elena," Marcus said. "And you're coming with us."

Elena stared at the car seat, her vision narrowing to a tunnel. Leo was asleep, his small hand curled around the edge of the blue blanket. He looked peaceful, oblivious to the fact that he was the currency in a transaction that had cost his mother her life.

"Put him down," Elena said, her grip tightening on the shears.

"Or what?" Marcus asked, stepping into the humid warmth of the greenhouse. "You'll prune me? Be reasonable, El. The game is over."

"It's not a game!" Elena screamed, the sound raw and jagged. "He's a person! He's my son!"

"He's a Hawthorne," Seraphina corrected, moving to stand beside Marcus. "And Hawthornes stick together."

She looked at Marcus, a silent communication passing between them. A shift in the air.

"Grab her," Seraphina said.

Marcus set the car seat down on a potting bench, careful not to wake the baby. Then he turned to Elena.

He was bigger than her. Stronger. But he was also soft. He had spent his life signing checks and drinking wine, while Elena had spent hers fighting for every scrap of ground she stood on.

He lunged.

Elena didn't retreat. She stepped into the attack, swinging the shears in a vicious arc.

The blades connected with his forearm, slicing through the cashmere and into the skin.

Marcus yelled, stumbling back, clutching his arm. "She cut me! The bitch cut me!"

"Useless," Seraphina hissed.

She grabbed a heavy clay pot from the bench and threw it.

Elena ducked. The pot shattered against the glass wall behind her, shards raining down like hail.

Elena scrambled over the potting bench, putting the wooden table between her and them. She was cornered. The only exit was behind them.

But she had something they didn't.

She had the fire suppression system.

The greenhouse was equipped with high-pressure misters for humidity control. The valve was on the wall behind her.

"Last chance, Elena," Seraphina said, picking up a trowel. "Get in the car, and maybe we won't have to explain why you had a tragic accident in the garden."

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Elena said.

She grabbed the valve wheel and spun it.

The pipes groaned. Then, with a hiss like a thousand snakes, the misters activated.

A dense, blinding fog filled the greenhouse instantly. The temperature dropped as the pressurized water hit the air.

"I can't see!" Marcus shouted.

"Find her!" Seraphina screamed.

Elena dropped to the floor. The mist was thinner down here. She crawled toward the bench where Marcus had left the car seat.

She could hear them stumbling around, knocking over plants, cursing.

"Where is she?" Marcus's voice was panic-stricken. "My arm is bleeding!"

"Forget your arm! Get the baby!"

Elena reached the bench. She felt the plastic handle of the car seat.

She grabbed it.

It was heavy. Heavier than she expected.

She pulled it down to the floor. Leo stirred but didn't wake.

She crawled toward the door, dragging the seat with her.

"She's moving!" Seraphina shouted. "I hear her!"

Elena scrambled faster. She reached the door. She pushed it open with her shoulder.

The cold night air hit her face, a shock after the humidity of the greenhouse.

She stood up, lifting the car seat. She ran.

She didn't run for the gate. The SUV was blocking it.

She ran for the woods.

"She has him!" Marcus yelled from the doorway. "She has the baby!"

Elena plunged into the trees, the snow deep and treacherous. Branches whipped her face, tearing at her clothes. But she didn't stop. She clutched the car seat to her chest, shielding Leo with her body.

She heard them behind her. The crunch of snow. The beam of flashlights cutting through the trees.

"You can't outrun us, Elena!" Seraphina's voice was shrill, echoing in the woods. "You have nowhere to go!"

She was right. Elena didn't have a car. She didn't have a phone. She didn't have a plan.

But she had the baby.

And she remembered something Arthur Vane had said.

*The clause works both ways.*

If the parents were unfit...

She needed a witness. She needed someone who wasn't on the payroll.

She saw lights through the trees. A house. Not a mansion. A normal house, on the other side of the property line.

She ran toward it.

She burst out of the woods, into a backyard. A dog started barking.

She ran to the back door. She pounded on it with her fist.

"Help!" she screamed. "Please! Call the police!"

A light turned on.

The door opened.

A man stood there, wearing a bathrobe, a baseball bat in his hand.

"What the hell?" he asked, staring at the wild-eyed woman covered in mud and blood, holding a baby carrier.

"Please," Elena gasped, falling to her knees. "They're trying to kill me. They stole my son."

The man looked past her, toward the woods.

Two beams of light were dancing through the trees, getting closer.

"Get inside," the man said, pulling her over the threshold.

He slammed the door and locked it.

"Honey?" a woman's voice called from upstairs. "What's going on?"

"Call 911," the man shouted. "Now!"

Elena slumped against the wall, sliding down to the floor. She looked at the car seat.

Leo was awake. He looked up at her, his blue eyes wide.

He reached out a tiny hand.

Elena took it.

"I've got you," she whispered. "I've got you."

Outside, heavy fists pounded on the door.

"Open up!" Marcus shouted. "That woman has kidnapped my child!"

The man with the bat looked at Elena. Then he looked at the door.

He didn't open it.

"Police are on the way," he yelled through the wood. "Get off my property!"

There was a silence. A long, heavy silence.

Then, the sound of footsteps retreating.

They were gone.

But Elena knew it wasn't over. They weren't leaving. They were regrouping.

They had the money. They had the lawyers. They had the lies.

But she had the heir.

And possession was nine-tenths of the law.