Chapter 2 - A Message Meant for Someone Else

Damon snatched the phone before Celeste could turn it away.

Damon had once trusted Celeste with everything from his company’s banking passwords to the password on his home alarm. At three in the morning she used to warm Noah’s bottles while Damon paced the nursery in socks. That memory made the message on her screen feel even crueler.

"Give it back."

"Who sent this?"

"A client. You're making a scene."

"My son can't breathe. I'll make whatever scene I want."

Maya listened to Noah's chest while the flight attendant relayed instructions from a medical consultant on the ground. The baby's color slowly improved. His cries grew stronger, a sound Damon never expected to welcome.

"He's responding," Maya said. "But he needs an emergency evaluation when we land. No more from that bottle."

Damon lifted his boy carefully. "You hear that, buddy? Keep yelling. Your dad's listening."

Grant approached with a hard stare. "You need to calm down."

Damon turned. "And you need to find out who made his formula."

"The crew is handling it."

"I wasn't asking the crew."

Celeste stood so abruptly her champagne glass tipped over. A red stain spread across the white napkin.

"I packed his formula," she admitted. "I was trying to help."

"Then who asked if he'd drunk it?"

"My sister."

Damon scrolled to the contact number. No name, no history, only the one message. Celeste reached again, and Damon moved the phone beyond her fingers.

"You don't have a sister."

"I have family you don't know."

"We've been engaged for eight months."

"Not everything is about you, Damon."

Maya stepped between them. "Argue later. He needs you steady."

Damon sat, ashamed of how fast his anger had overtaken his fear. He tucked Noah against his chest. The boy's cheek rested above the tattoo of a small star, inked after the death of his mother.

"Why didn't the crew spot it?" Damon whispered.

Maya hesitated. "I don't know what's in that bottle. It could be contaminated, but I can't tell you with a smell. Protect it for testing."

The pilot announced they were turning toward Denver. Celeste stared out the dark oval window.

Then Damon's own phone buzzed.

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An encrypted video had arrived from an address he hadn't seen in fourteen months.

The sender was his dead wife, Hannah.