Sarah looked at her daughter, then back to Vance. The wall of amnesia and manipulation finally shattered completely. The recognition wasn't just in her mind; it was in her soul.
“Vance,” Sarah sobbed, collapsing to her knees in the grass.
Vance closed the distance in two strides, dropping to his knees and wrapping his massive arms around her. He buried his face in her shoulder, breathing in the scent of her hair, the tears streaming down his face into the worn fabric of her sweater.
“I’ve got you,” Vance whispered fiercely. “I’ve got you, and I’m never letting you go again.”
Mia walked slowly down the porch steps and stopped next to them. Vance reached out his large, rough hand, and Mia gently placed her small hand inside it.
“We have to go,” Sarah said suddenly, panic returning to her eyes. She pulled back, gripping Vance’s vest. “Greg comes back at five. He tracks my phone. He locks the doors from the outside at night. If he finds you here—”
“Let him come,” Vance said, his voice dropping to a terrifying calm. He stood up, pulling Sarah with him. “We aren't running. We're going inside. And we're going to wait for him.”
Chapter 3: The Crescent Moon
The inside of the house was sparse, lifeless, and suffocating. There were no pictures on the walls, no personal touches, nothing to indicate a family lived there. It looked exactly like what it was: a holding cell.
Vance sat at the small kitchen table. Sarah sat next to him, holding Mia tightly in her lap. The little girl had buried her face in her mother's chest, sensing the heavy, electric tension in the air.
Vance had used the last hour to make a phone call to Miller. He had laid out everything: the fake identity Greg had used at the hospital, the isolation, the kidnapping of a vulnerable woman. Miller promised squad cars were on the way, but they were thirty minutes out.
At 4:45 PM, the crunch of gravel echoed from the driveway.
Sarah flinched violently, her grip tightening on Mia.
“Look at me,” Vance said softly, reaching across the table to cover Sarah’s trembling hands with his own. “He is nothing. He has no power over you anymore. Do you understand?”
Sarah looked into Vance’s steady eyes and swallowed hard. She gave a single, firm nod.
The heavy deadbolt clicked from the outside. The front door swung open.
Greg Thorne walked into the living room, tossing his keys onto a side table. “Sarah, I picked up some—”
Greg froze.