Chapter 8 - The BetrayalBlood spread across Richard's shirt.
I screamed.
Michael dragged me behind the SUV.
Agents returned fire.
The shooter disappeared into the darkness.
Richard was still breathing.
I ran toward him.
“Stay awake!”
He grabbed my wrist.
“Don't trust…”
His eyes closed.
“Don't trust who?”
No answer.
I looked toward my mother.
She was standing completely still.
Too still.
I realized something.
The shooting had happened seconds after Richard mentioned the password.
Someone wanted him silent.
My mother grabbed Grace.
“Give her to me.”
I stepped back.
“Why?”
Her expression changed.
For the first time, she looked afraid of me.
“Because you need to run.”
“Mom?”
She turned.
Then I saw the gun in her hand.
My heart stopped.
“Put it down.”
She aimed it toward Michael.
He slowly raised his hands.
“Elizabeth.”
She said:
“I'm sorry.”
Then she fired.
Michael collapsed.
I screamed.
“Mom!”
She grabbed Grace and ran.
I followed.
Through the garage.
Up the stairs.
Into the snow.
“Mom!”
She disappeared into a black sedan.
The vehicle vanished into the night.
I stood frozen.
My daughter was gone.
My mother had taken her.
And Michael was bleeding on the ground.
Everything became chaos.
Hours later, I sat in a hospital hallway.
Michael survived.
Richard survived.
Grace was missing.
My mother was missing.
Daniel Cross was missing.
And every camera within a fifty-mile radius had somehow stopped recording.
Then my phone rang.
My mother's voice.
“Abigail.”
“Where is Grace?”
“Safe.”
“Bring her back.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
Silence.
Then:
“Because Daniel is already here.”
My blood froze.
“Where?”
“You don't understand.”
“Tell me!”
She whispered:
“I never kidnapped Grace.”
I stopped breathing.
“Then who did?”
My mother cried.
“Richard.”
I stared across the hospital hallway.
Richard.
Again.
She continued:
“He took her six weeks ago.”
“No.”
“He arranged everything.”
“No.”
“He knew the baby wasn't his.”
I shook my head.
“You're lying.”
“I'm trying to save her.”
Then a child's cry sounded faintly through the phone.
Grace.
My heart broke.
“Mom, please.”
“Meet me at the old station.”
The call ended.
I rushed there with federal agents.
The station was abandoned.
My mother stood on the platform.
Empty-handed.
I screamed:
“Where is my daughter?”
She looked at me.
“She's not here.”
Rage exploded through me.
“You said she was safe!”
“She was.”
“What happened?”
My mother looked toward the tunnel.
“Daniel got her.”
I stopped.
A train approached.
No lights.
No passengers.
Just one black locomotive.
The doors opened.
Daniel Cross stepped out.
He was older than in the photographs.
Gray hair.
Perfect suit.
Calm.
He looked at me.
Then smiled.
“You finally understand.”
Agents raised weapons.
Daniel didn't care.
“I don't want your money.”
“Where is Grace?”
He held up a tiny silver bracelet.
Grace's bracelet.
I almost collapsed.
“Give her to me.”
“No.”
“You want the account?”
He shook his head.
“I want the password.”
My mother stepped forward.
“Daniel, it's over.”
He smiled.
“Elizabeth.”
He looked at me.
“Tell your daughter what you never told her.”
My mother closed her eyes.
Daniel said:
“Grace isn't your granddaughter.”
I felt the world tilt.
My mother began crying.
Then Daniel continued:
“She is my daughter.”
The train doors slammed shut.
May you like
The locomotive disappeared into the tunnel.
And Grace was gone.
