The hospital rang me and said a little boy had named me as the person to call in an emergency. I laughed because it sounded absurd and said, “That’s not possible. I’m 32, single, and I don’t have a child.” But when they told me he had been begging for me, I drove over… and the moment I entered his hospital room, my whole world went still...

I threw my body over Noah, slamming him down behind the heavy iron utility box as a second shotgun blast shattered the remaining wood panels of the door. The bright beam of a high-powered tactical flashlight cut through the dust and gun smoke, illuminating the interior of the stone station.

"End of the line, Ms. Warren," a voice called out. It wasn't Investigator Vance. It was one of the men from the black SUV—a tall, burly individual wearing a tactical rain jacket and holding a short-barreled Remington 870. "Make this easy on yourself. Hand over the case and the boy, and maybe you get to walk out of here alive."

"He's lying, Emily," Noah whispered against my ear, his body shaking with a terrifying violence. "He was the one who drove the truck that hit us."

I looked around the small stone room. There were no other exits. The only window was a narrow slit in the stone wall designed for river observation—too narrow for me, though Noah might just barely fit through if he was pushed.

"Noah," I whispered, grabbing the military hard case and shoving it into his uninjured arm. "Listen to me very carefully. You see that window?"

He looked at the narrow opening, the rushing black water of the river visible just outside. His eyes went wide with panic. "No, Emily... I can't leave you."

"You have to," I said, gripping his face in my hands, looking directly into his terrified gray eyes. "You have the ledger. You have the watch. You are the only one who can finish this if something happens to me. Jump into the water, let the current carry you down to the main park bridge. Tommy... my uncle's friend... he lives near the park entrance. You find him. Go!"

"Ms. Warren!" the man with the shotgun shouted, his footsteps crunching closer on the broken gravel outside the door. "Five seconds, or I clear this room with buckshot!"

I didn't wait for his countdown. I stood up, grabbing a heavy rusted iron crowbar from the floor—left behind by whoever broke the station door years ago—and threw it directly at the flashlight beam with all the strength I possessed.

The iron bar struck the man’s shoulder with a heavy thud, causing him to curse loudly as his flashlight dropped to the floor, spinning wildly.

"Go, Noah! Go!" I screamed, lunging forward into the darkness toward the doorway.

I tackled the man’s waist just as he raised the shotgun again. The force of my impact caught him off balance on the wet concrete, and we both crashed out the doorway onto the slippery riverbank. The shotgun discharged harmlessly into the night sky, the blast illuminating the forest in a brief, terrifying flash of orange light.

We rolled down the steep embankment toward the rushing water. The man was much stronger than me; he recovered quickly, driving a heavy elbow into my ribs that knocked the breath completely out of my lungs. I gasped for air, my vision going black at the edges as he grabbed me by my hair, dragging my face toward the freezing torrent of the river.

"Stupid bitch," he growled, his face twisted in rage as he pressed his forearm against my throat. "Where's the boy?"

Through the darkness, I looked back toward the stone station. The narrow observation window was empty.