Chapter 11 - THE SHOT THROUGH THE WINDOW
Everyone dropped.
The bullet struck the wall above Victoria’s head.
Dylan crawled toward the stairs.
“Noah!”
Olivia was already moving.
Adam grabbed her.
“Stay down!”
“My baby is upstairs!”
“I’ll get him.”
“No!”
Dylan shouted:
“I’m going.”
He ran low through the hallway and reached the staircase.
Another shot shattered the front window.
Margaret screamed.
Victoria remained on the floor.
Not frightened.
Furious.
“They followed me.”
Adam stared at her.
“You led them here?”
“I checked.”
“You were followed.”
“No.”
“Then they tracked your car.”
“It was clean.”
Adam laughed once.
“No car is clean anymore.”
Dylan reached the upstairs bedroom.
Noah was awake.
Crying.
He lifted the baby from the crib.
“Hey.”
His own hands shook.
“I’ve got you.”
The words felt strange.
Beautiful.
Terrifying.
He held Noah against his chest.
Downstairs, glass shattered again.
Dylan looked toward the bedroom window.
A figure moved between the trees.
He crouched.
Noah cried harder.
“Shh.”
Dylan kissed his son’s forehead.
“I’m not leaving you again.”
Downstairs, Adam fired once through the broken window.
A vehicle engine roared.
Then silence.
Dylan returned with Noah.
Olivia rushed toward them.
“You’re okay.”
She took Noah.
Dylan noticed blood on her hand.
“You’re hurt.”
“Glass.”
Margaret examined the cut.
“Superficial.”
Adam stepped outside.
Victoria tried to stand.
Dylan blocked her.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
She stared at him.
“They know the house.”
“Because of you.”
“Yes.”
“Who were you about to name?”
Victoria remained silent.
Dylan grabbed her arm.
“Who?”
She looked at him.
“Julian Wren.”
Margaret gasped.
The physician who had signed Adam Pierce’s death record.
Victoria nodded.
“He’s eighty-one now.”
Adam’s jaw tightened.
“He’s still alive.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
Dylan laughed in disbelief.
“He was our family doctor.”
“For thirty years.”
“He treated me.”
“Yes.”
“He vaccinated me.”
“Yes.”
“He was there when my father died.”
Victoria looked away.
Dylan understood.
“Did he kill him?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did he?”
“I don’t know!”
Her voice broke.
It was the first time Dylan had ever heard Victoria shout from fear rather than anger.
She covered her face.
“Charles called me that night.”
Everyone went quiet.
“He said he had proof.”
Dylan’s breathing slowed.
“Proof of what?”
“That North Winter had begun tracking children outside the original families.”
“Why?”
Victoria looked at Adam.
“To rebuild what Rebecca had damaged.”
Adam stared.
“Using me?”
“Using many.”
Olivia tightened her arms around Noah.
“Children.”
Victoria nodded.
Dylan felt sick.
“What happened after Dad called?”
“I drove to his office.”
“And?”
“Wren was already there.”
Margaret whispered:
“Oh God.”
“Charles was on the floor.”
“Alive?”
“For perhaps thirty seconds.”
Dylan stepped closer.
“What did he say?”
Victoria cried silently.
Dylan had never seen her cry.
“He told me to protect you.”
“From Wren?”
“From everyone.”
“What did Wren do?”
“He said Charles had suffered an aneurysm.”
“And you believed him?”
“No.”
“Then why didn’t you call police?”
Victoria looked at her son.
“Because Wren showed me a photograph of you asleep in your bedroom.”
Dylan stopped.
Victoria continued.
“He said accidents happen to children.”
Olivia covered Noah’s ears instinctively.
Victoria’s voice became hollow.
“So I stayed quiet.”
Dylan stared.
“You spent twenty-eight years obeying him.”
“At first.”
“And later?”
“I learned to lie.”
Adam reentered.
“There’s blood outside.”
Everyone looked at him.
“Shooter?”
“Maybe.”
“Body?”
“No.”
Adam held up a small device.
“I found this attached beneath Victoria’s car.”
A tracker.
Victoria stared.
“That’s impossible.”
Adam looked at Dylan.
“No.”
He placed the device on the table.
“What’s impossible is that it transmitted to an external receiver.”
“Meaning?”
Adam’s expression hardened.
“It wasn’t sending our location to someone far away.”
He pointed toward the dark road outside.
“The receiver was nearby.”
Olivia whispered:
“How nearby?”
May you like
Adam answered.
“Less than two miles.”
