THE WOMAN WAITING IN THE BLACK CAR

The phone slipped from my hand and clattered onto the hardwood floor.

Luca was instantly at my side. "Grace? What happened?"

"They took her," I gasped, the room tilting violently. "Someone took Mom from the hospital. The note said... it said to check my father’s pocket watch."

Luca’s expression hardened into granite. He picked up my phone and ended the call. "Stay here with Noah."

He ran out of the room. I sat on the floor, pulling Noah into my lap. The little boy wrapped his arms around my neck, resting his chin on my shoulder.

"Are the bad men taking your mommy?" he whispered.

"I don't know, baby," I cried softly, rocking him. "I don't know."

Ten minutes later, Luca returned. In his hand, he held a tarnished brass pocket watch. It was the only item I had brought with me from Ohio that belonged to the man I thought was my father—Eleanor's late husband, who died when I was young. I kept it on the kitchen counter in the staff quarters.

"It was sitting exactly where you left it," Luca said, his voice tight.

"Then what did the note mean?"

Luca pressed the latch. The watch popped open.

There was no clock face inside.

The glass and gears had been completely hollowed out. Tucked inside the empty brass shell was a single, folded square of heavy cardstock.

Luca pulled it out and handed it to me.

It was a photograph.

I looked at it, and the breath was knocked out of me. It was a picture of my mother, Eleanor, sitting in a wheelchair, looking disoriented and frail. Behind her stood a man in a sharp grey suit.

It wasn't Vanessa’s father.

It was Daniel. Luca’s head of security.

"Daniel," I whispered, horrified.

Luca stared at the photo. The betrayal washed over his face, leaving behind something utterly lethal.

"He’s been working for the Whitmores this whole time," Luca said softly. Too softly. "He was the one who helped Vanessa arrange the boarding school. He was the one who planted the lawyer downstairs. He was the one who tipped off Vanessa's men in Ohio."

Noah squeezed my hand. "Dad? Where is Daniel?"

"He’s downstairs," Luca said. He checked his watch. "He thinks he’s securing the perimeter."

"Luca, please," I begged, standing up. "They have my mother. If you confront him, they might hurt her."

"I am not going to confront him, Grace," Luca said, pulling his coat from the chair. "I am going to break him until he tells me exactly where she is."

"I'm coming with you."

"No. You stay here, lock the door, and do not open it for anyone but me."

Luca walked out, shutting the nursery door behind him. I heard the lock click from the outside. He was keeping us safe.

I sat back down on the floor with Noah. We stared at the hollowed-out pocket watch.

"Miss Grace?" Noah asked quietly.

"Yes, sweetie?"

"If you're my aunt, does that mean you can live with us forever?"

The innocence of the question broke my heart. "I hope so, Noah. I really hope so."

I pulled him close, trying to be brave. But then, my eyes drifted back to the open pocket watch on the floor.

The inner lining of the brass casing was scratched. Deep, intentional grooves in the metal.

I leaned forward, squinting.

They weren't random scratches. It was an address.