Safe.

Below, Caleb’s phone rang.

He answered sharply. “Mom?”

His expression shifted.

“What do you mean they took him?”

The stranger stepped closer. “What happened?”

Caleb turned pale. “Noah’s gone. Police stopped them on the highway.”

The man cursed. Then Caleb looked up.

Not directly at me, but toward the attic.

“Where’s Elise?”

My heart stopped. He began moving down the hallway, checking rooms.

“Elise?” he called, his voice smooth again. “Baby, where are you?”

I pressed myself behind a stack of storage bins.

The attic steps creaked.

Once.

Twice.

Then sirens exploded outside. Red and blue light flashed through the tiny attic vent. Caleb froze.

The front door thundered with pounding.

“FBI! Open the door!”

The man in the raincoat ran toward the back.

Caleb didn’t move. He stood at the bottom of the attic stairs, staring up into the darkness.

For the first time in six years, I saw the real man behind my husband’s face. And he smiled.

“Your sister should have stayed out of this,” he said.

Then the door below burst open.

part3