Chapter 3 - The Warrant
The words hung in the air of the luxurious penthouse like a lethal gas.
"An arrest warrant?" Grant choked out, grabbing the marble edge of the island. "On what grounds?"
"Class-1 Felony Abduction," Dr. Mercer replied, his eyes darting off-camera as if he heard footsteps in his own hallway. "The city's child welfare system just flagged all four children as high-risk state wards under a classified medical quarantine order. They are claiming Evelyn abducted four infected minors from a mobile health clinic on Michigan Avenue. The news media is already preparing the broadcast."
Evelyn didn't panic. Panic was a luxury for people without resources. Instead, her brain shifted instantly into tactical execution.
"Paul!" she called out.
The broad-shouldered driver appeared from the hallway immediately. "Yes, Ms. Whitaker?"
"Move the subterranean vehicles. We aren't taking the Escalade; it has a tracking dart on the glass. Take the unmarked armored Volvo in Garage B. Julian, where are you right now?"
"I'm at the central morgue basement," Mercer said, his voice trembling. "Evelyn, they came to my house an hour ago. Men in dark blue tactical gear without badges. I hid in my car, but they are sweeping my contacts. If they catch you with those children, they won't put you in jail. They will place you in a state quarantine facility—and you will never come out."
"Stay where you are, Julian. I'm coming to you," Evelyn said firmly. "I need you to run a full toxicological panel on Lily's blood. We need proof of what they were injecting into these children before the state buries us."
She closed the laptop, severing the connection, and turned to Grant. Her brother looked ashen, his hands shaking as he held his designer phone.
"Grant, you're staying here," Evelyn said.
"Are you insane?" Grant hissed. "I'm named in your trust! If you get arrested for human trafficking and child abduction, my entire estate gets frozen! You need to hand those kids over to the police immediately!"
Evelyn walked up to her brother, standing inches from his face. "Look at me, Grant. Seven years ago, when Clara went missing, you told me to stop looking. You told me it was an accident, that she drowned in the lake, even though her body was never found. Now I stand in front of a child wearing the exact same serial mark. If you try to stop me, or if you call the police before I find out who is running this, I will strip every asset you hold in Whitaker Urban Development and leave you with nothing. Do you understand me?"
Grant swallowed hard, unable to meet her furious gaze. "You're going to lose everything, Evelyn. The company, your freedom, your life."
"I lost my sister seven years ago," Evelyn whispered coldly. "Everything else is just money."
She turned to the children. Mason was standing protectively in front of Lily, Caleb, and Theo, his young face pale but determined. "We're going," Mason said quietly. "We won't let them take us back."
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"No one is taking you anywhere," Evelyn said, extending her hand to Lily. "Come on."
Ten minutes later, the unmarked dark Volvo glided out of the subterranean garage into the blinding Chicago heat, slipping through an alleyway just three minutes before six marked police cruisers and two unbadged black vans pulled up to the front entrance of Lake Shore Drive with sirens blaring.
