Chapter 5: The Copper Kettle
The Copper Kettle was a rotting husk of a building, its windows boarded up and overgrown with creeping ivy. Sarah parked her Honda behind a rusted dumpster, keeping her headlights off. True to his word, Marcus was already there, leaning against a beat-up matte black truck.
He stepped forward as Sarah climbed out of the car, carrying Zoe in her arms. Marcus was broad-shouldered and grease-stained, looking older and far more tired than Sarah remembered. But when he looked at Zoe, his hardened expression melted into profound sadness. He gently traced the air just above the purple bruise on the baby's cheek.
"I'll kill them," Marcus muttered, his jaw ticking.
"We don't have time for revenge, Mark. I just need to get her far away," Sarah pleaded.
"Your car is a liability," Marcus said, snapping back into focus. "We're going to ditch it in the quarry a few miles from here. You and Zoe are getting in my truck. I know a guy in upstate New York who can forge new documents—birth certificates, social security numbers. But it’s going to cost everything you have."
"I don't care," Sarah said.
May you like
Suddenly, the crunch of gravel echoed through the still night. Headlights swept across the trees at the front of the diner. A sleek, black SUV idled at the entrance of the parking lot, its engine a low, menacing growl.
"They found you," Marcus hissed, grabbing Sarah by the arm. "Get in the truck. Now."
