Chapter Fifty

Jake

Ethan finally falls asleep with his head pressed against my chest, his tiny hand clutching my shirt. I stay there for a long time, lying on his bed with him, listening to the soft rhythm of his breathing. Every time he shifts in his sleep, I tighten my hold, as if that will make up for the night I wasn’t here. As if love could erase absence.

It doesn’t.

My son shouldn’t have to wonder where his father is at night. And yet, even as I hold him, guilt sinking deeper into my bones, my mind drifts. It drifts to another little boy. To Elias.

I see his dimpled smile as clear as if he is standing in front of me. I hear Chanel’s sweet voice calling Kyla Mommy, their little bodies curled up against her in that sterile hospital bed, like she was their whole world.

The image gnaws at me.

I press a kiss to Ethan’s hair and carefully slide out of bed, tucking the blanket around him. He doesn’t stir. For a moment I just stand there, staring down at him, willing my mind to focus only on him. On the son I’ve raised. The son I know.

But the resemblance in Elias’s face won’t leave me. It stalks me like a shadow I can’t shake.

By the time I make it downstairs, the house is quiet. Too quiet. Amina’s in our bedroom, no doubt waiting for me to crawl in beside her so she can hold me accountable with silence or sharp words. I can’t face that yet. Not tonight.

I pour myself a glass of whiskey and sink into the leather armchair in the study. The amber liquid burns its way down my throat, but it doesn’t settle the storm inside me.

My phone buzzes against the desk.

An unknown number. No, not unknown. I know this one. My chest tightens as I pick it up.

“Jake?” the voice on the other end says, low and professional.

My pulse spikes. “Yes, do you have some news for me?”

“I think I might have something sir.”

I sit up straighter, the glass forgotten in my hand. It’s been a few days since I hired him to look into Kyla and where she had been for the past few years. 

“You found something?”

There is a pause on the line, deliberate. “I might have. Enough to raise questions, at least. But I would rather discuss it in person.”

My grip on the phone tightens. “Give me something, Anything.”

Another pause, then he sighs. “She has been off the grid, that much is clear. No steady address for years, just short stints in small towns under different names. Paper trails that vanish before they begin. It’s like she didn’t want to be found.”

That shouldn’t surprise me, but it still hits like a blow. She didn’t want to be found. Not by me. Not by anyone. But why? What was she running from? 

“Go on,” I manage, my voice rough.

“The last five years, I tracked her to at least three different states. Temporary jobs, cheap rentals paid in cash. Each time, she moved before roots could settle. Classic evasion. But the real surprise?” He lowers his voice, like even over the phone, this is dangerous. “She never traveled alone. The kids were always with her.”

My heart lurches. My free hand clenches into a fist against my knee.

“You’re sure about this?”

“As sure as I can be. School registrations under false last names. Medical records buried under clerical errors. Someone knew how to keep her under the radar. Either she’s resourceful as hell, or she had help.”

I lean back in the chair, my breath coming shallow. Images flash through my mind Kyla, terrified, clutching her children, running from something I can’t see. Hiding them. Protecting them. From who? From what?

“Why would she need to hide?” I whisper, more to myself than to him.

“That is the question,” the investigator says. “I will keep digging. But, Jake”

“What?”

He hesitates, then lowers his voice even further. “This isn’t the kind of life someone chooses without a reason. Whatever she was running from? It’s not over. And if you are involved with her now, you might already be in the crossfire.”

For a long moment, I don’t say anything. I just sit there, staring into the darkened study, my mind reeling.

“Jake?” he prompts.

“I hear you,” I mutter, though my voice feels hollow.

“I’ll call when I have more. Be careful.” He hangs up before I can respond.

I lower the phone, my hand trembling.

Kyla wasn’t just surviving. She was hiding. Disappearing and resurfacing like smoke you can never catch. And through it all two kids in tow. Two kids she protected so fiercely she erased herself from the world to keep them safe.

But why?

I drain the rest of the whiskey in one swallow, but it doesn’t burn enough. Doesn’t numb enough. My head spins with questions, and none of them have answers. Only possibilities. Dangerous possibilities.

If she was running, what was she running from?

My stomach turns. The thought of Amina knowing about the PI, about any of this it’s a powder keg waiting to blow.

I press the heels of my hands against my eyes, fighting the urge to scream.

I wanted answers. Now they’re starting to come. And I’m terrified of what they’ll reveal.

Because if the investigator is right, then Kyla’s life hasn’t just been hard. It’s been dangerous.

And somehow, I think mine is about to be too.

I have to talk to her and find out what really happened five years ago that had her give up everything we worked so hard for walk away from me.