Chapter 9 - I Slip the Secret Phone Into My Pocket
With Noah finally drifting into a exhausted sleep, I gently laid him down on his bed and covered him.
I walked over to my closet, pulling out a heavy winter coat and slipping my phone deep into the inner pocket.
Downstairs, the front door slammed shut with a resounding crash that rattled the windowpanes of the nursery.
Ryan and Linda had left the house, realizing their immediate ambush had failed to produce the desired result.
I walked out into the quiet hallway, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird in a cage.
I needed to leave this house before they returned with court orders, police escorts, or professional process servers.
Every second I stayed under Ryan’s roof was a risk I could no longer afford to take with my son’s future.
I packed a single canvas duffel bag with clothes, birth certificates, and vaccination records from the filing cabinet.
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Carrying Noah in one arm and the bag in the other, I slipped quietly out through the rear garden doors.
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