Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85274 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85274 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
“I-I understand, sir.”
“Good! I’m tired of waiting for what’s owed to me. Today is the day I finally take back my life.” He glares my way. “And everyone else loses theirs.”
Eleazar stalks out, leaving the doctor and me alone, but I don’t bother begging him to help me. I learned the first time I did that, the room where I’m being held captive is monitored. When I tried to bribe the doctor for his help, Eleazar punished me by covering my mouth for what felt like days, which prevented me from eating and drinking. As much as I want to fight back, I can’t risk my baby being hurt in the process. My only hope is that Lincoln somehow manages to find and rescue us. It’s the only thought that keeps me going every day.
When the doctor leans in close, I flinch, unsure what he’s doing, why he’s suddenly so close to me, until his lips brush my ear and he murmurs, “I’m going to find a way to save you.”
Just as quickly as he leaned in, he stands upright, and when he leaves the room, I’m left wondering if I just imagined what he said.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
SIENNA
“Thank God his lungs are clear.” I place Colton back in the car seat and buckle him in, giving him a soft kiss to his forehead. About a week ago, Colton caught a cold from the girls. We had the pediatrician come check them out. Luckily, London and Brooklyn’s immune systems are strong, and aside from a cough, they’re okay. But Colton is younger, so he’s struggling a bit more than them. The pediatrician recommended having his chest x-rayed to be on the safe side, and thankfully, everything is okay.
“And did you see he weighs twelve pounds?” I add. “He’s getting so big so fast. It feels like he was just born, yet he’s already two months old.”
“Time doesn’t stop,” Micah mutters, a sardonic smile spreading across his face. It’s been a month since Ellie was taken, and even though he’s right, time doesn’t stop, it also feels like someone pressed pause on our lives the moment she disappeared.
“How’s your eye feeling?” I reach up to palm the side of his face, hating how badly it looks. When Lincoln punched him, he got him good. It’s only been a couple of hours, but there’s already an intense bruise forming.
“It’s fine.” He tilts his head to the side, avoiding my touch. I try not to take it personally, knowing he’s not upset with me but worried about his brother and the search for Ellie—just as I am—but it still hurts. “We should head home.”
Ever since Ellie went missing, Micah insisted on homeschooling the girls, not wanting to risk anyone else’s safety by any of us leaving the hotel. The only reason we’re out right now is because Colton needed to have his lungs checked for fluid, which needed to be done at the hospital.
When we walk past the cafeteria, the scent of caffeine permeates the air, and I make a last second decision to grab a cup of coffee from here. I know from our Lamaze classes that they sell coffee from Coffee Grind, a local coffee shop that I love.
“Hellcat,” Micah grumbles.
“I’ll just be a second. I’m running on fumes.”
While I get in line, Micah stands off to the side with Colton, holding the stroller. And two guards, who are there to protect us, monitor the area.
As the line moves forward, I step up to the counter, ready to place my order, when a woman walking past bumps into me, nearly knocking me over.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she says. “Please excuse me.”
I’m about to tell her it’s okay, when she shoves something into my hand, stunning me silent. I watch as she continues on her way and then open the paper in my hand.
Follow me to Eliza. She’s in danger. Please bring help.
I read the words once, twice, a third time before they sink in, and I rush after her. I have no idea where she’s going or if this is a trap, but I’ll be damned if I don’t do as she says.
“Sienna,” Micah hisses, catching up to me. “What are you doing?”
“I’m—” It hits me just before I start explaining that there must be a reason why the woman gave me a note instead of telling me. Someone might be listening.
“I need to use the restroom,” I say instead. I hand Micah the paper and take over pushing the stroller so he can read the note.
The second his eyes land on the words, his steps falter slightly, his gaze flying around the area until they land on the woman I’m following. And then he pulls out his phone and starts typing.
She leads us outside, and just as I begin to worry about keeping up with her—since we have the baby with us and our vehicle is parked on the other side—two cars pull up.