Seraphina Enters

"You look terrible, dear," Eleanor called out, aiming the barrel at the windshield. "Guilt does that."

Elena slammed her foot on the gas.

The truck tires screamed against the snow, finding traction for a split second before the first shot rang out.

*BOOM.*

The windshield shattered. Safety glass rained down on Elena and Leo.

"Down!" Elena screamed, grabbing the baby's car seat and shoving it toward the floorboard. Leo wailed, a thin, terrified sound lost in the roar of the engine.

Eleanor racked the shotgun. She wasn't just posing. She was firing.

Elena ducked, steering blindly. She aimed for the snowbank on the left, hoping to clip Eleanor without killing her.

*BOOM.*

The second shot took out the driver's side mirror.

The truck fishtailed, the rear end swinging wide. Elena corrected, fighting the wheel. She saw Eleanor dive out of the way, landing in a drift of snow, the shotgun flying from her hands.

Elena didn't stop. She didn't look back. She drove down the winding mountain road like a woman possessed, the wind howling through the broken windshield.

"Are you hit?" Kai's voice came from the backseat. He had crawled up from the floor.

"No," Elena gasped, wiping glass from her cheek. "Leo?"

"He's okay. Crying, but okay."

They drove for an hour, putting miles of dark, empty road between them and the cabin. Elena's hands were frozen to the wheel, her knuckles white.

She pulled into an all-night diner near the state line. The neon sign buzzed ominously: *Last Stop.*

"We need a new car," Kai said, shivering in the cold air blowing through the shattered window. "And a phone. A real phone."

"No phones," Elena said. "They can track them."

"We need to call the police, Elena. Eleanor just tried to execute us."

"The police gave Leo back to Marcus," Elena said. "The FBI agent was on their payroll. Who are we going to call? The National Guard?"

She looked at Leo, now quiet in his seat, his eyes wide and watchful.

"We need to disappear," she said. "For real this time."

They traded the truck for a beat-up sedan from a cash-only lot in New Jersey. They bought clothes from a thrift store. They drove south, aimless, just moving.

Two days later, they were in a motel in Delaware.

Elena sat on the edge of the bed, watching the local news on the grainy TV.

The headline flashed across the screen: *Hawthorne Heiress Missing. Husband Pleads for Safe Return.*

And then, a video clip.

Marcus, standing on the steps of the estate, looking haggard and heartbroken. Seraphina beside him, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.

"My wife, Elena, is unwell," Marcus said to the cameras. "She suffered a breakdown after our... fertility struggles. She has taken our son. We just want them home."

He looked directly into the lens.

"Elena, if you're watching this... please. Leo needs his family. We forgive you."

Elena threw the remote at the TV. It cracked the screen, distorting Marcus's face into a jagged, pixelated mess.

"Forgive me?" she screamed. "You tried to murder me!"

Kai came out of the bathroom, drying his hair with a thin towel.

"We have to do something," he said. "We can't just run forever. Eventually, they'll find us. Or we'll run out of money."

Elena looked at the ledger she had saved from the safe. It was sitting on the nightstand, a leather-bound book of horrors.

She opened it.

The last entry.

*Subject B (Seraphina) shows signs of instability. Aggression.*

She turned the page.

There was a list of medications. Antipsychotics. Mood stabilizers. Sedatives.

And a doctor's name.

*Dr. Aris Thorne.*

The family therapist. The one who had been fired.

"We need to find him," Elena said, pointing to the name.

"Why?" Kai asked.

"Because he knows," Elena said. "He treated her. He knows what she is. And if he was fired... maybe he has a grudge."

"Or maybe he's dead," Kai said. "People who know Hawthorne secrets tend to have short life expectancies."

"We have to try," Elena said. "He's the only loose end they haven't tied up."

They found an address for Dr. Thorne in a phone book at the public library. He wasn't practicing anymore. He was living in a retirement community in Florida.

They drove south.

It took two days. Two days of looking over their shoulders. Two days of sleeping in shifts.

They found the community. *Sunny Acres.* It was a sprawling complex of pastel bungalows and golf carts.

They found Dr. Thorne sitting on his porch, staring at a plastic flamingo. He looked frail, his skin papery and thin.

"Dr. Thorne?" Elena asked, approaching the screen door.

He looked up. His eyes were milky with cataracts, but his mind was sharp.

"You look like her," he said.

"Like who?"

"Like the first wife," he said. "The one they buried in the garden."

Elena froze. "What?"

"Nathaniel's wife," Thorne said. "Eleanor's mother. She didn't die of natural causes, my dear. She was the first experiment."

He gestured for them to sit.

"You want to know about Seraphina," he said. "You want to know why she is the way she is."

"I know she's sick," Elena said.

"She's not sick," Thorne said. "She's a masterpiece."

He leaned forward.

"Nathaniel didn't just want to keep the money in the family. He wanted to breed a specific kind of person. Someone ruthless. Someone devoid of empathy. Someone who could protect the legacy at any cost."

"A sociopath," Kai said.

"A king," Thorne corrected. "Or a queen."

He looked at Elena.

"Seraphina was the success," he said. "Marcus was the failure. He had too much... feeling. Too much guilt. But Seraphina? She felt nothing. She broke her first nanny's arm when she was six because she didn't like the way she poured the milk."

Elena shuddered. She thought of Seraphina holding the knife. Holding the baby.

"But she was unstable," Thorne said. "She needed a anchor. Someone to manage her. Someone to pay the bills."

"Me," Elena whispered.

"You," Thorne agreed. "And before you... there were others."

"Others?"

"Two others," Thorne said. "Two other wives. Two other 'bankrolls'."

"What happened to them?"

Thorne smiled. It was a toothless, terrifying expression.

"They had accidents," he said. "Tragic, unavoidable accidents. Just after the life insurance policies vested."

He pointed a shaking finger at Elena.

"You're the first one to make it past the third year," he said. "You must be very expensive."

Elena stood up. "I need you to testify. I need you to tell the police."

Thorne laughed. It was a dry, hacking sound.

"The police? The police work for the Hawthornes, my dear. The judge works for the Hawthornes. The governor works for the Hawthornes."

He leaned back in his chair.

"There is no law for people like them. There is only leverage."

"I have the ledger," Elena said.

"The ledger is history," Thorne said. "It's old news. You need something current. Something they can't bury."

"Like what?"

"Like the new experiment," Thorne said.

"What new experiment?"

Thorne looked at the baby in Elena's arms.

"Leo," he said. "Why do you think they wanted him so badly? Why do you think they stole your eggs?"

"Because Seraphina is infertile."

"No," Thorne said. "Seraphina is fertile. She has three children of her own. Living in Switzerland. Boarding schools."

Elena felt the world spin. "What?"

"They didn't want *a* baby," Thorne said. "They wanted *this* baby. Your baby."

"Why?"

"Because of your father," Thorne said.

Elena frowned. "My father was a mechanic. He died when I was ten."

"Your father," Thorne said, "was Nathaniel Hawthorne's bastard son."

Elena stared at him. The noise of the Florida afternoon—the crickets, the golf carts, the distant hum of the highway—faded away.

She wasn't just the wife.

She wasn't just the bankroll.

She was family.

"You are a Hawthorne, Elena," Thorne said. "And that baby? He isn't just an heir. He's the only pureblood left."

He closed his eyes.

"And Seraphina?" he whispered. "She doesn't want to raise him. She wants to consume him."

Suddenly, the screen door slammed open.

"She's here!" Kai shouted from the driveway. "Seraphina is here!"

Elena spun around.

A silver convertible screeched into the driveway.

Seraphina was behind the wheel. She wasn't wearing a wedding dress. She was wearing sunglasses and a scarf.

She looked like a movie star.

She looked like a predator.

She stepped out of the car. She looked at Elena. She looked at the baby.

She smiled.

"Hello, cousin," she said. "Did you miss me?"