Chapter 6 - The EscapeNoah moved faster than I thought any human could.
He grabbed my daughter from the nurse and shielded her beneath his coat.
Detective Reed fired toward the hallway.
Chaos erupted.
I could hear shouting.
Running.
A crash.
Then a second gunshot.
Noah lifted my entire hospital bed by one side.
“We’re moving.”
“I just had surgery!”
“Then scream quietly.”
It was almost absurd.
Almost.
We pushed through a service corridor.
My daughter cried beneath Noah’s coat.
Grant followed.
“Where are we going?”
“Rooftop.”
Grant stared.
“The helicopter?”
Noah nodded.
“You still have one?”
“Unlike your Maserati, I plan for emergencies.”
We reached a stairwell.
Halfway up, Grant stopped.
“I can’t.”
Noah turned.
“Then die here.”
Grant started climbing again.
I stared at him.
My husband.
The man I had loved.
The man who had lied for years.
And yet he was still following us.
Why?
At the rooftop, rain battered us again.
A helicopter waited.
We climbed inside.
As we lifted into the night, I looked back.
The hospital became smaller.
Seattle glittered beneath us.
My daughter slept against my chest.
Noah sat across from me.
Grant sat beside the door, soaked and pale.
I looked at him.
“Tell me everything.”
He stared at the city.
“I met your mother when I was twenty-four.”
“Why?”
“She recruited me.”
“For what?”
“Money laundering.”
I laughed bitterly.
“You?”
“I was ambitious.”
“And Evan?”
“He discovered us.”
“Then why did you marry me?”
Grant finally looked at me.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
“I didn’t know who you were.”
Noah immediately leaned forward.
“Liar.”
Grant flinched.
“No.”
He reached into his pocket.
“There was a reason.”
He pulled out an old document.
My name was on it.
Emma Hayes.
But beneath my name was another surname.
Whitaker.
I stared at it.
“No.”
Noah looked at the paper.
His face changed.
“What is that?”
Grant whispered:
“Emma, your biological father wasn’t Rachel’s husband.”
Noah looked at me.
Then at the document.
“No…”
Grant nodded.
“Your father was Noah’s father.”
Silence filled the helicopter.
I looked at Noah.
He was staring at me as if the world had just cracked open.
“That’s impossible.”
Grant shook his head.
“I was ordered to keep you away from the Whitakers.”
“By whom?”
Grant’s eyes moved to the window.
“Your mother.”
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
A woman spoke on the other end.
Grant immediately went white.
I heard only four words through the speaker.
“Bring her to Vancouver.”
He hung up.
Noah stared at him.
“Who was that?”
Grant looked at me.
“Rachel.”
My mother.
Alive.
May you like
And waiting.
:::
