"He’s in Oak Creek," Adrian announced, cutting the engine of the SUV. "My investigator just confirmed it."
I shoved the passenger door open before the vehicle fully stopped.
"Evelyn, wait!"
I ignored him, sprinting across the gravel toward the greasy back entrance of the small-town diner.
Pushing through the swinging metal door, the heavy stench of bleach and fried oil hit me. The kitchen was a chaotic blur of shouting cooks and clattering pans.
"Hey! You can't be back here!" a man yelled.
I didn't look at him. My eyes locked onto the skinny figure standing at the industrial sink in the corner.
He wore a faded grey t-shirt, his arms submerged in soapy water. He was taller. His shoulders were broader than I remembered. But the unruly brown hair was exactly the same.
"Lucas," I whispered.
The boy stiffened. He slowly turned his head over his shoulder.
A soapy plate slipped from his fingers, shattering against the wet tile floor.
"Mom?" he rasped.
I closed the distance, dropping to my knees right in the puddles and broken ceramic. I threw my arms around his waist, burying my face in his damp shirt.
"I'm so sorry," I sobbed, my voice cracking. "I'm so sorry I left you, my baby. I'm here now."
He didn't move. His arms stayed frozen at his sides.
"You didn't come back," Lucas said, his tone flat.
No tears. Just a hollow emptiness that terrified me more than anger.
I pulled back, looking up into his twelve-year-old face. "Ryan wouldn't let me. He locked me away."
I reached into my pocket with trembling fingers. I pulled out a small, flattened piece of yellow origami paper.
"You gave me this star on my birthday," I told him, pressing it into his wet palm. "I kept it every single day. It was the only thing that kept me going."
Lucas stared down at the crumpled star. His bottom lip quivered.
The rigid posture collapsed. He dropped to the floor beside me, wrapping his arms around my neck with crushing force.
"Mom!" he wailed, the sound tearing through the noisy kitchen. "I missed you! I missed you so much!"
I held him tight, rocking him back and forth on the hard tiles.
"Evelyn?"
I glanced up. An older man in a stained apron stood near the storeroom door, wiping his hands on a rag.
"Thomas?" I blinked, recognizing my father's old driver. "You have him?"
"Found him freezing at the bus station three years ago," Thomas explained, stepping forward. "Brought him here to keep him off the grid. Knew Ryan wouldn't look in a town like this."
I stood up, pulling Lucas with me. I kept one hand firmly on my son's shoulder. "What happened, Lucas? Ryan told me you ran away."
Lucas wiped his nose with the back of his hand. His green eyes hardened, a sudden, fierce anger replacing the tears.
"He threw me out," Lucas stated.
My stomach dropped. "He what?"
"Vanessa moved in the day after you left," Lucas continued, his voice steadying. "She brought Noah. She told me I had to call her Mom. When I said no, she slapped me."
My nails bit into my palms. "Ryan let her hit you?"
"Dad did worse," Lucas spat. "He dragged me into the study. Punched me in the stomach. Told me I was a thief and said he'd call the cops if I didn't leave."
"A thief?" Adrian asked, moving into the kitchen behind me.
"He hid Vanessa's jewelry in my backpack," Lucas answered, shifting his gaze to Adrian. "He wanted an excuse to kick me out."
"You were nine years old," I growled, the betrayal burning in my chest.
Lucas reached into his jeans pocket. He pulled out a sleek, silver digital voice recorder.
"Dad always recorded his meetings in the study," Lucas said, handing the device to me. "He forgot to turn it off when Vanessa came in."
I pressed the play button. Static hissed from the small speaker, followed by Ryan's unmistakable voice.
*"The IRS took the bait. Evelyn's going away for a long time."*
A woman laughed. Vanessa. *"And the brat?"*
*"Get rid of him,"* Ryan ordered through the recording. *"Make it look like he ran away. If he stays, the old man's trust fund kicks in when he turns eighteen. I need him gone to secure the assets."*
I stopped the playback. The silence in our corner of the kitchen felt suffocating.
"He planned to ruin you both," Adrian murmured, his jaw tight.
"There's more," Lucas said, stepping closer to me. "The night before I left, I saw Dad's lawyer, Mr. Higgins, in the dining room. He was practicing your signature on a stack of papers."
I whipped my head toward Adrian. "The share transfer documents."
Adrian nodded. "Forgery. Backed by a witness."
"I'll testify," Lucas declared.
I looked at my son, shocked by the iron resolve in his young face. "Lucas, no. A courtroom is brutal. Ryan will try to destroy you on the stand."
"Let him try," Lucas countered, his chin tilting up. "He stole our house. He stole you. I'm going to look him in the eye and take it all back."
Adrian placed a hand on Lucas's shoulder. "I'll arrange a safe house tonight. Private security. Ryan won't get within a mile of him."
"Thank you," I told Adrian.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. The burner Adrian had bought me an hour ago.
I pulled it out and stared at the glowing screen.
An unknown number.
A single photo loaded in the message thread.
It was a picture of Adrian's SUV, parked right outside the diner. Taken from across the street.
The text underneath read: *Did you really think I wouldn't track the car, Evie?*
