Chapter 17 - The Sleeping Child
The adrenaline crash hit me like a physical blow the moment the tail lights of the last patrol car disappeared down the park road.
My knees buckled slightly, and I had to lean against the kitchen counter to keep from collapsing. Detective Hayes stood nearby, writing notes on a small pad, looking visibly shaken by how close the breach had come.
“We’re moving you again tonight, Mrs. Miller,” Hayes said, looking up with genuine concern. “We underestimated her network. We didn't think she had local operatives tracking this safehouse location.”
“No,” I said quietly, shaking my head.
Hayes paused, blinking. “Pardon?”
“I said no, Detective. We are not moving again,” I repeated, turning to face him with a sudden, unshakeable calm. “Every time we pack up, every time we run to another motel or safehouse, my daughter has to live like a fugitive for a crime she didn't commit. This ends tonight.”
“Sarah, it’s not safe here anymore—”
“It’s safer here than on the road with an unsecured escort,” I interrupted firmly. “Double the perimeter guards. Put a tactical unit outside every door. But I am not waking my six-year-old daughter up at three in the morning to drag her through another police relocation.”
Hayes studied my face for a long moment, searching for hesitation. Finding none, he finally gave a curt nod. “Understood. We’ll lock this place down until dawn. Nobody gets within a quarter-mile of this property without being stopped.”
After Hayes stepped outside to coordinate the new perimeter guards, I walked softly down the dim hallway and pushed open the door to the guest bedroom.
May you like
Lily was still fast asleep in her twin bed, her breathing deep and untroubled, clutching her favorite stuffed animal in one arm and her purple water bottle resting safely on the nightstand. She hadn't even woken up when the front door crashed open.
I brushed a stray lock of blonde hair from her forehead, kissed her cheek softly, and whispered, “You’re safe, baby. Mommy’s got you.”
