Chapter 6
The search for Noah began immediately.
Megan could barely speak.
She had been nineteen when she became pregnant. Diane had controlled every medical appointment and convinced her that she was too unstable to raise a child.
After the delivery, Megan woke to an empty hospital room.
Diane told her the baby had stopped breathing.
There had been no funeral.
No ashes.
Only a death certificate that now appeared to be fake.
“Where is he?” Megan demanded.
Detective Cole promised they would find out.
Records showed Noah had been enrolled in a private kindergarten under Diane’s address. Teachers described him as quiet and frequently tired.
Three weeks earlier, Diane had withdrawn him, claiming the family was moving.
Security footage showed Frank carrying a sleeping child from Diane’s house two nights before my dinner confrontation.
Frank refused to tell investigators where he had taken him.
By noon, the story had reached the news.
Diane’s attorney called the nursery an innocent room for visiting relatives. He claimed the birth certificate was part of a private adoption Megan had willingly approved.
Megan denied signing anything.
A handwriting expert found that her signature had been forged.
Ryan asked to speak with me.
I refused.
Then he sent a message through his lawyer.
I know where Noah might be. I’ll tell Emma only.
Detective Cole advised me to meet him in a monitored interview room.
Ryan entered wearing jail clothes and handcuffs.
He looked smaller than I remembered.
“Where is Noah?” I asked.
“I need something first.”
“You are bargaining with a child’s life?”
“I want you to tell the prosecutor I cooperated.”
“If Noah is alive, every minute matters.”
Ryan leaned forward.
“My mother owns a cabin near Blackwater Lake. Frank takes care of it.”
“Address.”
“I want a promise.”
I stood.
“Then live with whatever happens to that boy.”
“Wait.”
Ryan’s confidence cracked.
He gave Detective Cole directions.
Police surrounded the cabin less than an hour later.
Frank’s truck was parked outside, but the rooms were empty. In the basement, officers found canned food, children’s blankets, and a chain secured to the wall.
There was fresh blood on a towel.
A map lay on the kitchen table with a circle drawn around an abandoned campground near the state border.
By the time officers reached the campground, Frank’s truck had disappeared from the cabin.
He had escaped through an old logging road.
That evening, my mother took Lily upstairs for a bath while Megan and I waited for news.
The doorbell rang.
A man wearing a county badge stood on the porch.
“Emergency child services,” he said. “We received information that Lily may be in danger.”
I kept the security chain locked.
“Show me your identification.”
He held up a card, but something was wrong.
The photograph did not look like him.
I reached for my phone.
He kicked the door.
The chain snapped.
Frank forced his way inside.
Megan screamed.
He struck my phone from my hand and grabbed me by the throat.
“You should have stayed quiet,” he growled.
I drove my knee into his stomach.
He stumbled, but then slammed me against the wall.
Upstairs, Lily began crying.
Megan picked up a lamp and hit Frank across the shoulder. He spun around and knocked her down.
My mother locked herself and Lily inside the bathroom.
Frank rushed toward the stairs.
I grabbed his coat from behind.
He dragged me several feet before I pulled the fire extinguisher from the wall and sprayed it into his face.
He shouted and swung blindly.
Megan crawled to the alarm panel and pressed the emergency button.
Sirens sounded in the distance.
Frank ran through the back door.
Before disappearing into the darkness, he turned toward me.
“You’ll never find Noah.”
Police arrived minutes later.
One officer checked the broken front door while another reviewed the camera footage.
Detective Cole called me from the campground.
“We found something,” she said.
My heart pounded.
“Is it Noah?”
“No. But we found a child’s drawing inside one of the cabins.”
She sent me a photograph.
The drawing showed a little boy beside a red barn.
May you like
Above the barn, Noah had written three words in uneven letters.
Grandma comes tomorrow.
