Through the sheer curtains covering the narrow side window, I saw a shadow moving on the porch.
Panic seized my throat. Was it the Marshals? No, Miller said they would come to the side garage door in darkness. Was it the cartel? Had Evelyn's snooping already triggered a leak?
I set the cradle down silently and crept toward the side window, pressing my face against the glass to look out onto the illuminated porch.
It was Evelyn.
She was standing there in a long silk robe, clutching her clipboard, glaring directly at the door. She reached out and aggressively jiggled the brass handle. Finding it locked, she slammed her open palm against the heavy mahogany.
"I know you're in there, Clara!" her voice carried clearly through the wood, sharp and furious. "I saw the light go out! The sheriff’s deputies are staging at the front gate. They’ll be here in five minutes to secure the premises!"
My blood turned to ice. She had lied. She hadn't scheduled an inspection for the morning. She had called them tonight, escalating the situation out of pure, venomous spite, determined to catch me trying to slip away in the dark.
"You thought you could pack up and sneak out before you had to answer to me?" Evelyn yelled, slamming her hand against the door again. "I told you, nobody disrespects my neighborhood! Open this door before I tell the police you’re harboring fugitives!"
The extraction team was supposed to arrive in thirty minutes. If the local deputies showed up right now, they would run my plates, run my alias, and trigger the system. Or worse, the local deputies might accidentally intercept the heavily armed, undercover Marshals arriving in the dark, resulting in an armed standoff in my driveway. Everything was collapsing. The careful, silent wall of protection the government had built around me was being demolished by a suburban tyrant with a clipboard.
A massive contraction seized my stomach. I cried out, my knees buckling as I grabbed the handle of the door to keep from collapsing to the floor.
I realized, with terrifying clarity, that hiding wasn't an option anymore. I couldn't wait in the dark. I had to stop her from bringing the local police up the driveway. I had to force her to back off, right now, before the deputies arrived.
I unlocked the deadbolts. I turned the handle.
I opened the door and stepped out into the blinding glare of the porch light, coming face to face with the monster who had dismantled my life.
Evelyn’s eyes widened slightly in surprise as the heavy door swung inward, but the shock quickly dissolved into a look of triumphant vindication. She stood squarely in the center of my porch, blocking the path down the stairs. The harsh security light illuminated the deep, angry lines around her mouth.
"Going somewhere?" she sneered, her gaze dropping to my swollen stomach and then to my face, taking in my pale, sweat-slicked skin.
"You need to leave," I gasped, leaning heavily against the doorframe as the tail end of the contraction slowly released its agonizing grip on my muscles. "Evelyn, I am begging you. You don't understand what you are doing. Cancel the police."
"Oh, I understand perfectly," she spat, taking a step forward until she was less than two feet away from me. "I understand that I finally caught the trash trying to take itself out. You're pathetic. You think your tears are going to work on me? I built this community. I protect the people who actually belong here from parasites like you."
"I am not a parasite!" I cried, desperation making my voice crack. "I am in danger! Real danger! If those police officers drive up here, they are going to ruin my life and endanger my baby. Please, I will leave in the morning. Just call them off."
"Absolutely not," Evelyn said, her voice dripping with cruel satisfaction. "I want to see the look on your face when they drag you out of here in handcuffs and auction off your house. You arrogant little peasant."
She noticed the garden hose I had left coiled near the steps from yesterday. With a sudden, unpredictable surge of aggression, Evelyn reached down, grabbed the thick green rubber hose, and yanked it upward to toss it onto my lawn, seemingly disgusted by its presence on her pristine concrete.
The brass nozzle whipped through the air and struck my ankle.