Chapter 6 - The Private Airfield
The harsh floodlights of the airfield illuminated Claire's smug face perfectly.
She was speaking to a tall, elegantly dressed woman who wore a heavy cashmere coat against the night chill.
The elegant woman handed Claire a thick silver briefcase, which Claire eagerly snapped open to inspect.
Even from my hiding spot, I could see the neat stacks of hundred-dollar bills packed inside the case.
They were literally selling my newborn child for cold, hard cash.
I told Noah to stay completely hidden behind the wooden crates and not to make a single sound.
I picked up a heavy metal wrench that a mechanic had carelessly left on the tarmac.
I stepped out from the shadows, marching directly toward my sister-in-law with the weapon raised.
"Step away from my baby right now," I screamed over the loud whine of the jet engines.
Claire spun around in absolute shock, dropping the silver briefcase onto the concrete floor.
The elegant woman took a step backward, looking more annoyed than actually frightened by my sudden appearance.
"How on earth did you get here?" Claire demanded, her voice cracking with sudden fear.
I did not waste my time answering her ridiculous question.
I swung the heavy metal wrench, smashing it directly into the side of Claire's knee.
She screamed in agony and collapsed to the ground, dropping the infant carrier hard onto the tarmac.
I threw the wrench aside and dove for the plastic carrier, my heart soaring at the thought of holding my baby.
I ripped the protective fabric cover back, expecting to see Evan's sweet, sleeping face.
But the infant carrier was completely empty.
There was no baby, no blankets, and no sign of my newborn son anywhere inside the plastic shell.
I spun around to face Claire, who was writhing in pain on the cold concrete.
"Where is my son?" I demanded, grabbing her by the collar of her expensive designer blouse.
Claire laughed, wiping a streak of blood from her mouth as she looked up at me.
"You really think Margaret would trust me to handle the actual merchandise?" Claire sneered.
The elegant woman stepped forward, pulling a small silver handgun from the pocket of her cashmere coat.
She aimed the weapon directly at my forehead with a calm and practiced precision.
"You have been very misinformed about this transaction, Sarah," the woman said smoothly.
I froze, keeping my hands raised where the woman could see them clearly.
"Margaret did not sell your newborn baby to me," the elegant woman clarified.
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The woman smiled a terrifying, predatory smile that revealed perfectly white teeth.
"Margaret sold your older son to me, and you just brought him right to my front door," the woman announced.
