Sending the Kids Away

Lily wasn't in her room. Claire knew this. She had dropped the twins off at her sister’s house in Connecticut two days ago, a precaution against Arthur's reach. But seeing the empty bed, the broken glass, the decapitated rabbit—it was a message.

*We can get to them.*

Arthur knew where they were. He had the resources to find anyone. If he could find a missing child in Ohio in 1992, he could find two little girls in Connecticut in 2026.

"We have to go," Claire said, her voice shaking. "We have to get them."

Silas was already moving. He opened a panel in the floor of the boat, revealing a hidden compartment. He pulled out a black duffel bag and tossed it to her.

"Cash," he said. "Passports. Untraceable phones. Take it."

"What about you?"

"I have my own insurance." He patted the flare gun. "Go. The marina has a back exit through the old boatyard. My car is parked there. A gray sedan. Keys are under the mat."

Claire didn't argue. She grabbed the bag and ran.

The rain was relentless, turning the ground to mud. She slipped and stumbled through the maze of dry-docked boats, their skeletal hulls looming in the darkness. She found the sedan, unlocked it, and threw the bag inside.

But before she could start the engine, her phone rang.

It was David.

"Claire?" His voice was panicked, breathless. "Where are you?"

"I'm safe," she lied. "Where are you?"

"I'm... I'm driving. I don't know where. Dad... he gave me this car. But the doors won't unlock. The windows won't roll down."

"It's a trap, David! Get out of the car!"

"I can't! The controls are locked. And the GPS... it just reset."

"To where?"

"To the bridge," David whispered. "It's taking me to the bridge."

Claire slammed her hand against the steering wheel. Arthur wasn't just tracking him. He was driving him. He was going to drive his own son off a bridge to protect the family name.

"Listen to me," Claire said. "I'm coming. I'm coming to get you."

"No! Don't! He'll kill you too!"

"He's already trying!"

She started the car. She peeled out of the boatyard, onto the main road. The bridge was ten miles away. If she drove fast enough...

But then she remembered the girls.

If she went to the bridge, Arthur would know. And if she interfered, he would make the call to Connecticut.

She had to choose. Her husband or her children.

She gripped the wheel, tears streaming down her face. She couldn't save both. Not tonight.

Unless she changed the game.

She pulled over to the shoulder. She dialed Arthur’s number.

He answered on the first ring.

"Hello, Claire. Enjoying the weather?"

"Let them go," she said.

"Let who go? David is just taking a drive. And the girls... well, they're visiting their aunt, aren't they? Such a lovely home. Very secluded."

"I know about Lena," Claire said.

Silence. The line crackled with static.

"I know about the kidnapping," she continued, her voice gaining strength. "I know about Michael Kovac. I know you didn't adopt him. You stole him."

"You have a vivid imagination, Claire."

"I have the file," she lied. "Silas gave it to me. The missing person report. The photos. The payment ledger."

Arthur sighed. "Silas always was a problem. I should have handled him years ago."

"I sent the file to the FBI," Claire said. "And the press. It's scheduled to release in twenty minutes. Unless you stop the car."

"You're lying."

"Am I?" Claire asked. "Check your email, Arthur. I just sent you a preview."

She hadn't sent anything. She didn't have his email. But she needed him to doubt. She needed him to hesitate.

"Stop the car," she said. "And leave my children alone. Or the whole world will know that the great Arthur Vance is a child trafficker."

"If you release that file," Arthur said, his voice dropping to a whisper, "David dies. The girls die. Everyone dies."

"Then we all die," Claire said. "Because I'm not playing your game anymore. I'm ending it."

She hung up.

She waited. One minute. Two.

Her phone buzzed. A text from David.

*The car stopped. The doors opened.*

Claire let out a sob of relief. He had bought it. He was scared.

But she knew it wasn't over. Arthur Vance didn't surrender. He regrouped.

She texted David back.

*Get out. Run. Meet me at the airfield.*

It was a risk. But they needed to disappear. Tonight.

She turned the car around. She wasn't going to the bridge. She wasn't going to Connecticut.

She was going to the one place Arthur wouldn't expect.

The place where it all started.

She dialed Sarah.

"Sarah," she said. "I need you to book a flight. A private charter. For four people."

"Where are we going?" Sarah asked.

"Ohio," Claire said. "We're going to introduce David to his family."

Arthur smiled. "Safe travels," he said to the empty room. "Roads are dangerous."