Chapter 8 - The Shadow of Julian Vane
The name Julian Vane hung in the air of our living room like a poisonous gas.
James sat on the edge of the sofa,
his hands clasped so tightly that his knuckles were white.
The lamp in the corner cast long,
distorted shadows across his face,
making him look like a man in an interrogation room.
"How do you know that name?"
he whispered,
though he was staring at the letter in my hand.
"Elena wrote it,"
I said,
sitting in the armchair across from him.
"She said he’s the father."
"She said he can never find out about the baby."
James let out a long,
shuddering breath and buried his face in his hands.
"I prayed he was out of the picture,"
he groaned.
"I prayed he was still in prison."
"Prison?"
I felt the blood drain from my face.
"What did he do,
James?"
James looked up,
his eyes haunted.
"He’s not just some guy she met,
Sarah."
"He’s a predator."
"He runs a debt collection ring in the city,
the kind that uses muscle instead of lawyers."
"Elena got involved with him four years ago when she was at her lowest."
"She thought he was her savior,
but he was just another cage."
"When I found her in Nevada,
she was hiding from him."
"He had beaten her so badly she couldn't walk for a week."
I felt a wave of nausea.
The woman I had judged for being "weak" and "unstable" had been living in a horror movie.
"And you knew?"
I asked,
the anger bubbling up again.
"You knew she was being hunted by a criminal,
and you didn't call the police?"
"She wouldn't let me!"
James cried.
"She said if the police got involved,
he’d kill us all."
"He has people everywhere,
Sarah."
"Even in the departments."
"He’s obsessed with 'loyalty.'"
"To him,
Elena wasn't a girlfriend,
she was property."
"And if he finds out she had his child..."
He didn't finish the sentence,
but he didn't have to.
The implication was clear.
Maya was a prize he would come for.
"Is that why you were sending the money?"
I asked,
the pieces finally starting to fit together.
"Was it for her to live on,
or was it to pay him off?"
James looked at the floor,
his silence a confession.
"Both,"
he admitted.
"He found her six months ago."
"That’s why she came back here."
"I’ve been paying him five thousand dollars a month to stay away from her."
I gasped,
the number hitting me like a physical blow.
"Five thousand a month?"
"James,
where did that money come from?"
"Our savings are gone,
Sarah,"
he said,
his voice barely a whisper.
"I took out a second mortgage on the house."
"I sold the stocks my grandfather left me."
"I did everything I could to keep him away from her,
and from us."
I felt the room spinning.
Our house—the only security our three boys had—was at risk.
My husband had gambled our entire future to protect a woman who was now dead,
and a baby who was the offspring of a monster.
"You should have told me,"
I whispered,
tears of rage and exhaustion spilling over.
"We could have gone to the feds."
"We could have disappeared."
"Instead,
you left us sitting ducks in a house you don't even own anymore."
"I thought I could handle it,"
he sobbed,
his composure finally shattering.
"I thought once the baby was born and Elena was safe,
I could find a way to make the money back."
"But then Elena died,
and the payments stopped."
"And now he’s calling me,
Sarah."
The room went cold.
"He’s calling you?"
I asked.
"When?"
"Tonight,"
James said,
pulling his phone from his pocket with a trembling hand.
"Two hours ago."
"He said he heard Elena passed away."
"He said he wants to come 'collect' what belongs to him."
"He doesn't know about Maya yet,"
James added quickly,
"he thinks he’s coming for her belongings,
her 'estate.'"
"But he’s coming to our house,
Sarah."
"He’s coming here."
I looked toward the stairs,
thinking of my three boys sleeping in their beds,
and the tiny girl who was the center of this storm.
The betrayal of the lies seemed small now compared to the physical danger we were in.
"We have to go,"
I said,
standing up.
"We have to pack a bag and leave right now."
"Where would we go?"
James asked.
"He knows about my parents."
"He knows where I work."
"We go to the one place he won't look,"
I said,
a plan forming in my mind.
"We go to my mother’s cabin in the woods."
"The one she hasn't used in three years."
"The one that’s still in her maiden name."
James looked at me,
a flicker of hope in his eyes.
"You’d do that?"
"After everything I did?"
"I'm not doing it for you,
James,"
I said,
my voice hard.
"I'm doing it for our children."
"All four of them."
"Now get the bags."
"We leave in ten minutes."
As I ran up the stairs to wake the boys,
I realized that our life of suburban normalcy was over.
We were no longer a family of five living a quiet life.
We were fugitives,
protecting a secret that had the power to destroy us all.
And as I picked up Maya,
her small weight felt like the most important thing in the world.
May you like
She wasn't just a reminder of betrayal anymore.
She was a life that I had to save.
