Chapter 6 - The Safehouse
I stared at Mark's ink-stained thumb, my reality fracturing into a million jagged pieces all over again.
I rushed to the baby and rubbed the remaining mark on his ankle, watching the rest of the fake birthmark wash away.
I collapsed onto the dusty floor of the cabin, sobbing uncontrollably into my hands.
The child I had risked my life for, the baby I had kissed and cried over, was a complete stranger.
Mark crawled over and wrapped his arms around me, holding me tightly as I broke down completely.
He realized that Dr. Evans had given us a decoy baby to trigger us into running and taking the heat off her.
She had successfully used us as a distraction so she could escape with the real Noah.
My despair quickly morphed into a blinding, protective fury that made my hands shake.
I told Mark that we were not going to hide in the woods while someone else had our real son.
Mark agreed, pulling a folded piece of paper from his pocket that he had taken from the medical files.
He explained it was a list of secure safehouses the hospital administration used to store stolen assets.
If Dr. Evans was running, she would likely use a secure location she already had access to.
We waited for the sun to set before leaving the cabin, wrapping the decoy baby warmly for the journey.
We hiked for three hours until we reached a rural highway and managed to hotwire an old pickup truck left near a farm.
Mark drove us toward an industrial district on the edge of the city, keeping the headlights off to avoid detection.
We pulled up to a massive, seemingly abandoned warehouse surrounded by a tall chain-link fence.
Mark picked the lock on a side door, and we quietly slipped into the cavernous, echoing building.
We navigated through rows of dusty shipping containers, following a faint, flickering light in the distance.
We finally reached a makeshift medical bay set up in the center of the warehouse.
Dr. Evans was standing over a stainless steel table, frantically packing medical supplies into a duffel bag.
I stepped out of the shadows, demanding that she hand over my son immediately.
She spun around, dropping the supplies, but she did not look surprised to see us.
May you like
She pointed a trembling finger toward the dark corner of the room.
"I don't have him," she whispered, as a dozen armed guards stepped out of the shadows and surrounded us.
