Caleb opened the case and removed three passports. One contained his photograph, another showed Noah, and the third showed me, but none of the documents carried our real names.
The stranger told Caleb that the Bureau had moved faster than expected and warned that Mara might already know what was happening. Caleb dismissed the possibility that I had discovered anything useful, casually telling the man that I never checked the files on my laptop and wouldn’t understand them even if I did.
“She never checks anything. Even if she saw something, she wouldn’t understand it.”
“You chose well.”
Caleb didn’t laugh with him. Instead, he said I hadn’t originally been part of whatever plan they were discussing, then mentioned that Noah had complicated everything.
“That wasn’t part of the plan. But the kid complicates things.”
My fear immediately shifted toward my son because he was supposed to be sleeping safely at Caleb’s parents’ house. The stranger revealed that they were already moving Noah, and Caleb calmly confirmed that once they crossed into Canada, they intended to disappear under new identities.
“Good. Once we cross into Canada, everything resets.”
Before I could process what I’d heard, my phone vibrated with a message from Mara. She told me FBI agents and local police were two minutes away, ordered me to remain hidden, and gave me the only information that kept me from completely falling apart.
“FBI and local police are two minutes out. Stay hidden. Do not make noise. Noah is safe. We intercepted him.”
Almost immediately, Caleb received a phone call downstairs and learned that police had stopped the vehicle carrying Noah. His controlled confidence vanished, and after telling the stranger what had happened, he slowly looked toward the ceiling as though he had suddenly realized I was no longer in our bedroom.
“What do you mean they took him?”
“Noah’s gone. Police stopped them on the highway.”
For six years, I had believed I knew the man downstairs. Now I was hiding above him while federal agents raced toward our house, my son had just been intercepted during an attempted escape, and my husband was standing beneath the attic with three false passports prepared for our family.
