Chapter 10 - Into the Snow
The pickup struck the garage door with a deafening crack. Hinges tore free. Emma hit the brakes as splintered metal and snow burst across the hood. The man outside jumped clear and fell into a drift.
Rosa opened the passenger door and pulled Lily into the back seat. Daniel climbed in beside them, coughing from smoke. Emma steered down the driveway past the shattered planter and through the open gates.
Behind them, the mansion's upper windows flared orange.
“Go to the police,” Daniel said.
“First, I want an ambulance for Lily,” Emma answered.
“I'm not hurt,” Lily whispered. “I'm scared.”
“I know, honey.” Emma caught her eyes in the mirror. “Being scared counts.”
Their phones recovered service beyond the estate. Rosa called 911 and gave the address, describing the trapped doors, the fire, and the armed men. Then Emma called the number Natalie had used.
Natalie answered at once. “You got Lily out?”
“Yes. Where are you?”
As the ambulance crew checked Lily, the little girl asked whether the Christmas presents had burned. Emma answered carefully: maybe some had, and that would be sad. But people were not presents. They could not be replaced with a shopping trip. Lily thought about that, then squeezed her mother's fingers.
“At St. Agnes. Listen: Victoria doesn't need your signature if she can prove you disappeared with the child. She filed an emergency petition already.”
“Then we'll go straight to the station.”
“Don't. She has an officer on her payroll. Ask for Detective Maya Torres at the county headquarters. Only her.”
Daniel stiffened. “How do you know Torres?”
“Because I gave her my mother's records six months ago.” Natalie paused. “And because your mother had me declared dead on paper.”
The line crackled. Emma nearly missed the next words.
“Check the teddy bear. Lily has the proof.”
Emma pulled over beneath the blue glow of a closed gas station. Lily reluctantly handed over her favorite toy. A seam along the back had been sewn with fresh white thread. Inside was a tiny memory card in a plastic pouch.
Daniel whispered, “Mother sewed that bear last night.”
Headlights flooded the truck's cabin. A police cruiser pulled across their path, blocking the road. The officer stepped out slowly, his hand resting on his holster.
May you like
“Emma Whitmore?” he called. “There's a warrant for your arrest.”
CHRISTMAS EVE BETRAYAL • THE MISSING DAUGHTER
