“He stole your mother’s entire life.”

Daniel’s words followed me long after he stopped speaking.

I stared at the newspaper clipping sitting on the table.

A missing child.

A scratched-out name.

A message written in my mother’s handwriting.

He is alive.

Three words.

Three words that meant my mother had known.

She had known her son was alive.

And she had carried that secret for thirty-two years.

My first feeling wasn’t sadness.

It was anger.

A deep, burning anger that started somewhere in my chest and spread through my entire body.

“She knew.”

My voice was barely audible.

Daniel didn’t deny it.

“Yes.”

I looked up sharply.

“She knew?”

“Yes.”

“And she never told me?”

His silence was the answer.

I pushed away from the table.

The booth suddenly felt too small.

The walls too close.

The air too heavy.

“My whole life…”

My voice cracked.

“My whole life I watched that woman cry over a dead child.”

Daniel watched me carefully.

“Evelyn—”

“No.”

I shook my head.

“You don’t understand.”

The bikers stayed silent.

I didn’t care if they heard anymore.

I didn’t care if strangers saw me break apart.

“I thought she was grieving.”

My eyes burned.

“I thought she was just a woman who lost her baby.”

I looked at the photograph.

“But she knew.”

Daniel lowered his voice.

“She knew he might still be out there.”

“Might?”

I looked at him.

“You said he was alive.”

“I believe he was.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“No.”

Daniel nodded.

“It’s not.”

The honesty stopped me.

I expected him to defend her.

To make excuses.

But he didn’t.

“She should have told you,” he said.

The words surprised me.

“You really think so?”

“Yes.”

“Then why didn’t she?”

Daniel looked down.

“Because your mother was afraid.”

I laughed bitterly.

“Everyone keeps saying that.”

“Because it’s true.”

“Afraid of what?”

Daniel looked at me.

“Afraid that Thomas would find you.”

I froze.

“He was still looking for me?”

“Yes.”

“But I was just a child.”

“That’s why you were dangerous.”

I frowned.

“What?”

Daniel leaned closer.

“Thomas knew your mother loved you more than anything.”

The words hit harder than I expected.

“He knew if he threatened you, she would stop searching.”

I looked away.

“And she did.”

Daniel didn’t answer.

Because he knew I was right.

For thirty-two years, my mother had lived quietly.

Too quietly.

She never traveled.

Never remarried.

Never talked about the past.

I had always thought she was simply broken.

Now I wondered if she had been hiding.

“Where is the letter?”

Daniel looked confused.

“What letter?”

“You said there was something written.”

He glanced at the photograph.

Then at the newspaper.

“No.”

“What?”

“That isn’t the only thing I found.”

My heartbeat changed.

“What else?”

Daniel reached into his jacket.

This time, he pulled out a small envelope.

Old.

Yellowed.

The edges were worn from being handled too many times.

My breath caught.

“Where did you get that?”

Daniel stared at the envelope.

“Your mother gave it to me.”

“When?”

“Thirty-two years ago.”

“Why?”

His eyes softened.

“Because she thought she would never see her children again.”

The word hurt.

Children.

Not child.

I reached for the envelope.

But Daniel didn’t let go.

“Evelyn.”

“What?”

“There is something you should know before you read it.”

“What?”

Daniel hesitated.

Then he released the envelope.

“Your mother wrote this the night she left Thomas.”

My fingers trembled.

“The night she ran away with me?”

“No.”

I looked up.

“Then what?”

Daniel’s face became heavy.

“The night she ran away without me.”

I frowned.

“I don’t understand.”

“She thought I was dead.”

The words shocked me.

“What?”

“Thomas wanted Margaret to believe everyone who tried to help her was gone.”

I looked at the envelope.

“What happened to you?”

Daniel looked away.

“I survived.”

“But she didn’t know?”

“No.”

My heart hurt.

“She thought she lost both of you?”

Daniel nodded.

“Yes.”

For the first time, I understood something.

My mother hadn’t just lost one child.

She had lost two.

She lost her son.

And she lost the man who tried to save him.

I carefully opened the envelope.

Inside was a single piece of paper.

The handwriting was shaky.

Older.

Painful.

But unmistakably my mother’s.

I began reading.

Daniel,

If you are reading this, then something has happened that I was afraid would happen.

I don’t know where you are. I don’t know if you are safe.

I don’t know if my son is safe.

My breath caught.

I continued.

Thomas says Daniel is gone. He says our baby died. But a mother knows her child. A mother knows when something is wrong.

My eyes blurred.

I saw the fear in his eyes when I asked questions. I saw the anger when I refused to stop looking.

He did not lose our son. He took him.

I stopped reading.

The diner disappeared.

Only the words remained.

My mother knew.

She always knew.

I continued.

If I disappear, please find my children.

Tell Sarah that she was loved every single day.

My hands froze.

Sarah.

My birth name.

Tell Daniel that his mother never stopped loving him.

I swallowed hard.

Tell both of them that I tried.

The final sentence was written differently.

As if she had been crying.

I am sorry I could not save you both.

I lowered the letter.

I couldn’t breathe.

Daniel was staring at me.

“She wrote my name.”

“Yes.”

“She remembered.”

“Yes.”

I looked at him.

“Why didn’t you send this to me?”

Daniel’s face changed.

Pain.

Regret.

“I tried.”

“When?”

“Years ago.”

“And?”

“No one knew where you were.”

I shook my head.

“My mother knew.”

“Yes.”

“Then why didn’t she give it to me?”

Daniel looked away.

“Because Thomas came back.”

The words froze me.

“What?”

“He found her.”

“When?”

“Many times.”

My heart started racing.

“Are you saying he has been watching her?”

“Yes.”

“Then why didn’t he hurt her?”

Daniel’s expression darkened.

“Because sometimes making someone live with their pain is worse than killing them.”

A cold silence followed.

I folded the letter carefully.

“My mother is in the hospital right now.”

Daniel nodded.

“Yes.”

“And you think Thomas is involved?”

“I think someone wants her silent.”

I looked at him.

“And you?”

“What about me?”

“Why come to this diner today?”

Daniel looked confused.

“I didn’t.”

“What?”

“I wasn’t supposed to be here.”

My stomach tightened.

“What do you mean?”

He looked toward the window.

“The Iron Saints changed our route this morning.”

“Why?”

“Because my bike broke down.”

I stared.

“That’s it?”

Daniel shook his head.

“No.”

He looked back at me.

“I don’t believe in coincidences anymore.”

A chill went through me.

“What are you saying?”

Daniel looked at the letter in my hand.

Then at me.

“I think your mother knew you would find me.”

I whispered:

“How?”

Daniel pointed at the envelope.

There was something I hadn’t noticed.

A small mark in the corner.

A symbol.

A black ink symbol.

The same symbol on the leather jackets of the four bikers.

The Iron Saints.

My eyes widened.

“What is that?”

Daniel looked at the patch on his jacket.

Then back at me.

“Your mother’s last message.”

I stared.

“What?”

Daniel’s voice became quiet.

“She didn’t send me here to pretend to be your son.”

A pause.

“She sent me here because she knew I was your brother.”

The world seemed to stop.

And then my phone rang.

I looked down.

The hospital.

My hands went cold as I answered.

“Hello?”

The nurse’s voice came through.

“Ms. Hale?”

“Yes?”

“There’s something you need to know about your mother.”

My heart sank.

“What happened?”

A pause.

Then:

“Someone came to see her.”

I gripped the phone.

“Who?”

The nurse hesitated.

Then whispered:

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“He said his name was Thomas Hale.”

END OF CHAPTER 4