She left her children shivering on my porch with a goodbye note and a single duffel bag. I thought she was just being selfish, but when I called the cops, I discovered her car was on fire on the highway and the bag she left behind was packed with four million dollars in blood money.

"Hold on!" Vance screamed.

She slammed on the brakes, sending the SUV fishtailing as we spun off the highway exit into a dense, wooded area. The tires screamed against the damp asphalt. Vance expertly corrected the spin, diving the cruiser down a narrow, unpaved gravel road lined with thick pine trees.

The SUV followed, but the heavy vehicle struggled on the mud. Vance took a sharp left, plunging the cruiser into a hidden clearing where a small, unassuming cabin stood.

"Out, out! Move!" Vance yelled, killing the engine and the lights.

We scrambled out of the car. I scooped Leo into my arms, his small body surprisingly heavy, while Vance grabbed Lily and the duffel bag. We ran for the cabin just as the headlights of the SUV cut through the trees behind us.

We burst through the front door, and Vance slammed it, throwing three heavy deadbolts. The cabin was dark, smelling of pine and old paper.

"Get in the cellar," Vance ordered, pointing to a wooden trapdoor in the pantry floor. "Now, Sarah!"

I didn't hesitate. I helped Lily down the steep wooden steps, then carried Leo down into the damp, cold darkness. Above us, we heard the sound of footsteps on the gravel outside, followed by the heavy thud of someone trying to kick the cabin door open.