Chapter 3 - The Dead Man in Terminal Four
Mason saw him first.
“Gray jacket.”
I turned.
The man was already moving through the crowd.
Same height.
Same slight limp.
Walter Dane.
The man who had driven me to school when I was twelve.
The man who had supposedly died in a boating accident four years earlier.
“Mason, don't chase him.”
He looked surprised.
“Cameras.”
A public airport was one of the worst places to disappear.
Let Walter believe he had.
I turned back to Tessa.
“Were you flying somewhere?”
She nodded.
“Denver.”
“Why?”
No answer.
Lorraine said quietly:
“Because she's running again.”
Tessa's face hardened.
“From you.”
I looked at my mother.
“Go home.”
“Grant—”
“Now.”
For perhaps the first time in my adult life, Lorraine obeyed without getting the last word.
Her two men followed.
Mason stayed.
I didn't ask Tessa to come with me.
Instead, I pointed toward a café across the terminal.
“Public. Cameras everywhere. You choose the table.”
She hesitated.
Noah whispered:
“Mommy, I'm hungry.”
That decided it.
Ten minutes later, the four of us sat together.
My sons.
The words felt impossible.
Lucas dismantled a blueberry muffin with surgical precision.
Noah watched me.
“You're Grant?”
“Yes.”
“Mom knows you.”
“I know your mom too.”
“Are you our dad?”
Tessa closed her eyes.
I didn't know how to answer without taking something from her.
So I said:
“I think I am.”
Noah considered this.
“Okay.”
Children were terrifyingly efficient.
Tessa almost smiled.
Almost.
Then she told me the rest.
After Lorraine forced her from Arizona, she moved repeatedly.
Las Cruces.
El Paso.
Dallas.
Oklahoma City.
Every time she became comfortable, someone appeared.
Sometimes Walter.
Sometimes another stranger.
Nobody threatened her directly.
They watched.
Reminded her.
Six months ago, it stopped.
Then three days earlier, Walter appeared outside the twins' school in Albuquerque.
So Tessa ran again.
“Why Phoenix?”
“I had to change flights.”
“Why Denver?”
She looked down.
“Someone contacted me.”
“Who?”
“A woman named Evelyn Shaw.”
Mason became completely still.
I noticed.
“You know her.”
He hesitated.
“Mason.”
“She worked for your father.”
Doing what?
“Accounting.”
Tessa removed her phone.
Evelyn's message contained only a Denver address and six words.
I KNOW WHY LORRAINE CHOSE THE TWINS.
Not hid.
Not threatened.
Chose.
“What does that mean?”
Tessa shook her head.
“I was going to find out.”
My phone buzzed.
Airport security had found Walter on camera.
He hadn't left.
He had gone downstairs.
Baggage claim.
Then another message arrived.
A photograph.
Taken minutes earlier.
Me sitting with Tessa and the boys.
Someone was still watching us.
Below it:
DON'T LET HER REACH DENVER.
Then Tessa's phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered.
A woman's frightened voice whispered:
“Tessa?”
“Yes?”
“This is Evelyn.”
Tessa put it on speaker.
“I can't wait in Denver.”
“Why?”
“Walter found me.”
A crash sounded.
Then Evelyn said:
“Listen carefully. Lorraine didn't send Tessa away because of Grant.”
My mother had lied.
Again.
Evelyn whispered:
May you like
“She sent her away because one of the twins was never supposed to be born.”
The call ended.
