Chapter 2: The Fortress of Betrayal
The shadow beneath the door lengthened as the porch light flickered. Sarah knew she had minutes. She didn't waste them on tears. She looked at Sophie, whose eyes were wide with a terrifying maturity.
"Sophie," Sarah whispered, her voice steel. "You told me you heard him on the phone. Did you hear where he keeps the override for the security system?"
Sophie nodded slowly. "He told the man on the phone, 'The house is a tomb, the code is the date the girl was born.' He said it like a joke, Mommy."
Sarah’s breath hitched. Sophie’s birthday. The ultimate cruelty. Mark had used their daughter’s life as the key to their prison. Sarah sprinted to the wall panel, her fingers flying over the keypad. She entered the numbers—0-5-1-2-1-9. A low, electronic hum vibrated through the floorboards. The smart-locks throughout the house disengaged with a series of sharp, mechanical clicks.
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They weren't trapped anymore, but they were being hunted. Sarah grabbed the tactical jacket from the hook, pulling it on over her pajamas. It was heavy, smelling of gun oil and stale coffee. She checked the pockets. A GPS tracker, a flare, and a set of keys to the armored SUV in the garage. Mark was an operative for a private security firm that specialized in "extractions." He had extracted his own family.
She turned off the lights in the house, plunging them into darkness. "We're going to the garage, baby. Stay low."
