CHAPTER 5
The freezing rain soaked through my silk blouse as I sprinted down the concrete alleyway, my heart pounding like a jackhammer in my chest.
I ducked behind a massive industrial dumpster just as a black SUV with tinted windows screeched to a halt at the alley entrance.
Two men in dark coats stepped out into the rain, holding tactical flashlights as they swept the dark pavement for any sign of me.
I held my breath, pressing my back against the wet brick wall, clutching my phone and the silver crescent moon pendant tightly in my coat pocket.
Once the guards walked past my hiding spot, I darted out into the crowded evening traffic along $2\text{nd}$ Avenue, blending seamlessly into the sea of commuters carrying umbrellas.
I flagged down a yellow taxi at the corner of Pike Street, sliding into the back seat while shivering uncontrollably from the cold and shock.
"Where to, ma'am?" the driver asked, looking at me through the rearview mirror with a worried frown.
"Bellevue," I gasped out, wiping the rain and tears from my eyes. "Take me to Bellevue High School... as fast as you can."
During the thirty-minute drive across the Evergreen Point Floating Bridge, my mind raced through every detail of Nurse Miriam's confession video.
Dr. Warren Pike, the prominent chief of obstetrics at Saint Matthew's, was still practicing at a prestigious private clinic in Seattle.
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Dr. Sylvia Grant, the attorney who drafted the fraudulent papers, was now a high-ranking judge sitting on the King County Superior Court bench.
This wasn't just a isolated crime committed by my husband; it was an elite, highly organized adoption ring catering to Seattle's wealthiest power brokers.
