sports

Chapter 27

Ethan stared at the flashing phone on the dashboard. The digital screen cast a sickly green glow over Marcus’s bloody face in the snow. He picked it up and swiped to answer the FaceTime call.

Patricia’s face filled the screen. She wasn’t at the cheap motel anymore. She was sitting in the back of a moving vehicle, the passing streetlights casting fast, rhythmic shadows over her hollow eyes.

“Marcus?” she began, her voice tight with anticipation. “Is it done? Do you have the boy?”

“Marcus is going to prison, Mom,” Ethan said, his voice dropping into a deadly whisper as he pointed the camera down at the unconscious criminal, then up to Lauren and Noah wrapped in blankets in his arms. “And so are you. It’s over. I have my family back.”

Patricia didn’t scream. She didn’t look afraid. Instead, a chilling, soft chuckle rattled through the speaker.

“Oh, Ethan. You always think you’re three steps ahead because you can build a bridge or manage a spreadsheet,” she whispered, leaning closer to her camera. “You think Marcus was my only asset? You think I’d trust a low-life criminal with my final piece of leverage?”

Ethan’s chest tightened. “What are you talking about?”

“Look around you, son,” Patricia smiled, her teeth gleaming in the dark. “Where is your sister?”

Ethan’s blood turned to liquid nitrogen. He whipped around, looking back down the desolate, snow-covered road toward Exit 42. Melissa was supposed to be waiting by her car, calling the state police.

“Melissa...” Ethan breathed.

“She was so eager to play the hero, to slip you that flash drive,” Patricia mocked, her voice dripping with venom. “But Melissa has always owed me. She thought she could buy her freedom with your money. But I own her, Ethan. I’ve always owned her.”

The video feed suddenly shifted. Patricia turned her phone camera around, revealing the front passenger seat of the car she was riding in.

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Melissa was driving. Her face was completely devoid of emotion, staring blankly at the dark highway ahead, her hands gripping the steering wheel like a robot.

“We’re leaving Iowa, Ethan,” Patricia’s voice came back on the line. “And we took something of yours before we left. Check your father's truck.”

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