Chapter 5 - The Farmhouse
The front door was locked.
I kicked it open.
Inside, the farmhouse smelled like dust, old wood, and cigarette smoke. A lamp burned in the living room. On the floor lay Josephine’s plastic bag, the one she had carried while collecting cans.
I heard another cry upstairs.
“Josephine!” I shouted.
No answer.
I took the stairs two at a time.
At the end of the hall, a bedroom door stood slightly open.
Felicity’s brother, Grant Danforth, was inside.
He stood near the window, holding Eli in his arms.
Josephine sat on the floor beside the bed with Noah pressed against her chest. Her hands were tied in front of her. Her face was pale, but she was awake.
Felicity stood behind Grant.
“Bennett,” she said softly. “You should not have come.”
I moved toward Josephine.
Grant lifted Eli higher.
“One more step,” he said, “and I drop him.”
My body froze.
Josephine shook her head, tears running down her face.
“Don’t,” she whispered.
Felicity looked almost peaceful.
“This is your fault,” she told me. “You could have let things stay simple.”
“Simple?” I said. “You kidnapped my children.”
“I am saving you from a life with her.”
“No. You are trying to save yourself.”
Felicity’s eyes narrowed.
“You always needed someone to tell you what was best for you.”
That sentence hurt because it was true.
I had spent years allowing other people to speak louder than my own instincts. My mother. Felicity. Anyone who told me Josephine was too emotional, too sensitive, too difficult.
But I was done.
“I don’t need you,” I said.
Felicity flinched.
Grant shifted nervously.
Outside, distant sirens grew louder.
Felicity heard them.
Her face changed.
“You called the police?”
“Yes.”
“You would destroy me?”
“You destroyed yourself.”
She reached into her coat pocket.
A gun.
Josephine gasped.
Felicity raised it toward me.
“I loved you,” she said.
“No,” I replied. “You wanted to own me.”
The gun trembled in her hand.
Then Grant looked down at Eli.
The baby had stopped crying.
He was staring up at Grant with wide dark eyes.
Something changed in Grant’s face.
Maybe he saw how small Eli was.
Maybe he understood that there was no lie large enough to justify hurting a child.
Or maybe he finally understood Felicity would sacrifice him too.
“She told me we were just taking them somewhere safe,” he said.
Felicity turned sharply.
“Grant, shut up.”
“You told me Bennett was dangerous.”
“He is dangerous!”
“No,” Grant said. “You are.”
Felicity spun toward him.
That was the opening.
Josephine threw herself sideways, knocking the bedside table into Felicity’s legs. The gun slipped from Felicity’s hand and hit the floor.
Grant lowered Eli.
I crossed the room.
Felicity lunged for the weapon, but I reached it first.
At the same moment, Detective Raines and officers burst through the doorway.
“Hands where we can see them!”
Felicity stood frozen.
Then she began crying.
Not the quiet tears my mother used to make people forgive her.
These were furious tears.
“You don’t understand,” she screamed. “He was supposed to be mine!”
Josephine looked at her.
“He was never a prize.”
Officers handcuffed Felicity.
Grant surrendered without resistance.
The moment Eli was safe, I dropped beside Josephine.
My hands shook as I untied the rope around her wrists.
“I’m here,” I whispered.
She stared at me.
“You found us.”
“I will always find you.”
Josephine’s eyes filled.
Then she looked down at Noah.
“You can’t promise things you don’t mean.”
The words broke me.
So I did not promise.
Instead, I held my son carefully for the first time.
Eli’s small fingers curled around mine.
Josephine held Noah close.
And together, in that ruined farmhouse, we finally began to understand what we had lost.
May you like
And what we might still be able to save.
---
