Chapter 3

Evangeline's POV

Theo and I were staying at Jennifer's house. He knew the space and felt comfortable there, no meltdowns, no overwhelming stress reactions. After what happened at his birthday party, that was all I could ask for.

But he wasn't doing well.

Since that night, something had shifted in him. He barely spoke. Wouldn't make eye contact, even with me.

His routines became more rigid. Line up the cars. Count them. Line them up again. Over and over, like he was trying to rebuild a world that made sense.

I took him to see Dr. Morrison, his pediatric psychiatrist.

She pulled me aside after the appointment, her expression grave. "Evangeline, Theo's showing signs of regression. The disruption to his routine, the emotional upheaval, it's affecting him more than I'd like to see."

My stomach dropped. "What do we do?"

"Stability and consistency. A predictable environment with minimal external stressors." She handed me a care plan, pages of instructions and recommendations. "And continued therapy. Weekly sessions, at a minimum. More if he needs it."

I stared at the papers in my hands, the words blurring together. At the bottom of the page, I could make out the estimate for treatment costs. My heart sank.

The number was staggering. Weekly therapy sessions, occupational therapy, possible medication adjustments, it all added up to more than I could afford. Especially now.

Since the divorce, my finances had become painfully clear. Dashiell had handled everything during our marriage. I'd been dependent, foolishly so.

Now I had nothing. No job, no income, no safety net. Just a small settlement that would run out faster than I wanted to think about.

I needed to find work. Soon.

"Thank you, Dr. Morrison," I managed, tucking the papers into my bag. "I'll make sure he gets what he needs."

Outside the clinic, I knelt beside Theo. His face was pale, his eyes distant. "How about we go somewhere fun? Your favorite place?"

For a moment, nothing. Then the tiniest nod.

"The amusement park?"

Another small nod.

Relief flooded through me. "Okay, sweetheart. Let's go."

I buckled him into the car, my hands still shaking from the appointment. The medical bills, the therapy costs. I pushed the thoughts away. One thing at a time.

Right now, Theo needed something good. Something normal.

As I started the engine, Theo's small voice came from the backseat. "Mama."

"Yes, baby?"

He pointed out the window, toward the parking lot. "Someone watching."

I followed his gaze. Cars, trees, a couple walking to their vehicle. Nothing unusual. "I don't see anyone, honey. Are you sure?"

He nodded, his face serious. But when I looked again, there was nothing.

"It's okay," I said gently, pulling out of the parking space. "We're safe. I promise."

But as we drove toward the highway, unease prickled at the back of my neck.

There was a car behind us. Black sedan, tinted windows. It had been there when we left the clinic parking lot. Still there now, three cars back.

I changed lanes. So did the sedan.

My pulse quickened. Maybe I was being paranoid. Maybe it was a coincidence.

I took the next exit, even though it wasn't the one we needed. The sedan followed.

Not paranoia. Not a coincidence.

"Theo, honey, hold on tight, okay?" I kept my voice calm even as fear spiked through me.

I pressed the accelerator, weaving through traffic. The sedan kept pace, closing the distance. Whoever was driving knew what they were doing.

We were heading into the business district now. Glass towers rose on either side of us—familiar buildings.

Dashiell's company was just two blocks ahead. His office building, where he spent most of his days.

He was close. He could help. He had to help.

I fumbled for my phone, keeping one hand on the wheel. My fingers shook as I pulled up his number and pressed call.

"Theo, honey, hold on tight, okay?" I repeated, my eyes darting between the road and the rearview mirror.

The phone rang once. Twice. Three times.

Then a voice answered, soft, familiar, wrong.

"Hello?"

It’s Sabrina.

"I—I need to speak to Dashiell," I gasped, swerving to avoid the sedan as it pulled alongside us. "It's an emergency. Someone's following us. We're being chased and we… we're right near his office, just two blocks away. Please, I need him—"

"Oh." A pause. She continued. "I'm sorry, Evangeline, but Dashiell specifically said he doesn't want to be disturbed by you anymore."

"What? No, you don't understand!" The sedan swerved closer, forcing me toward the curb. "Someone is following us! A black sedan. They've been tailing us since the clinic and now they're trying to run us off the road—"

"Evangeline." Her voice turned sympathetic, almost pitying. "I know the divorce has been hard on you, but you can't keep calling Dashiell every time you need something."

"This isn't about the divorce! This is about Theo's safety! We're in danger—"

"Dashiell mentioned you've been doing this a lot lately. Making up emergencies to get his attention. Creating drama." She sighed softly. 

"Let me talk to him!" My voice cracked with desperation. The sedan was right beside us now, matching our speed. "Just put him on the phone! Please!"

"He doesn't want to talk to you. I'm sorry, but you need to respect his boundaries. Call someone else. Your friend Jennifer, perhaps?" she said, her voice laced with a mocking laugh. "Or maybe you should focus on being a better mother instead of chasing after a man who doesn't want you anymore." 

The line went dead.

I stared at the phone in disbelief, my hands trembling.

The black sedan swerved sharply toward us.

"Mama!" Theo's voice, high and frightened.

I dropped the phone and grabbed the steering wheel with both hands, yanking it hard to the right. But there was nowhere to go—buildings on one side, the sedan on the other.

Metal screamed against metal. The sedan hit us hard from the side, sending us spinning.

Glass shattered. Theo screamed.

I reached desperately for him, trying to shield him with my body as the world tilted sickeningly. We hit something—a pole, a wall, I couldn't tell—and the impact slammed through my entire body.

Then everything stopped.

Silence. Terrible, ringing silence.

My head throbbed. 

"Theo?" My voice came out strangled. "Baby?"

Behind me, Theo was silent. Too silent. His head was slumped against the window, a trickle of blood running from his temple. His eyes were closed.

"No, no, no. Theo, wake up!" Panic clawed at my throat. I reached back, my fingers finding his small wrist. A pulse. Faint but there. "Stay with me, sweetheart. Please stay with me."

I looked around frantically. The narrow street was deserted. No passing cars. No pedestrians. The black sedan had disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

Phone. I needed my phone.

I fumbled around, my movements clumsy and painful. There—on the floor by my feet, the screen cracked but still glowing.

I grabbed it with shaking hands.

I had to call 911.

I tried to focus on the screen, but my vision was blurring. The numbers kept swimming in and out of focus.

9...

My hand was shaking so badly.

1...

1...

The phone slipped from my fingers, clattering to the floor.

I tried to reach for it again, but my arms wouldn't obey. Everything was getting darker, heavier. My eyelids were so heavy.

Then darkness swallowed me whole.

When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in a hospital bed.

White ceiling. Antiseptic smell. The steady beep of monitors.

I slowly looked around and tried to remember what happened. And then, when the memories of the accident came rushing back, I searched for Theo.

"T-Theo! Baby!" I called. "Where's my son?!"