Chapter 5
Toby found the likely safe property through a charitable holding company linked indirectly to St. Jude’s.
A timber manager’s cabin.
Off-grid.
Ten miles beyond the county road.
The Escalade barely made the fire road.
Then the headlights found the Bronco.
Half buried in a drainage ditch.
Driver’s side empty.
Engine dead.
One pacifier on the floor.
Victor’s stomach dropped.
Two sets of footprints led uphill.
One deeper.
One dragging.
Thomas checked the map.
“Cabin’s over a mile.”
Victor opened his door.
Thomas looked at his shoes.
Italian leather.
“No.”
Victor stepped into thigh-deep snow.
“Stay with the vehicles if you want.”
The climb punished him immediately.
Snow filled his shoes.
Wind tore through his coat.
Within fifteen minutes, he could not feel his toes.
His lungs burned.
The footprints told the story.
One place where somebody had fallen to both knees.
A diaper bag abandoned.
One scarf caught on a branch.
Victor picked it up.
Nora’s.
He had bought it in Paris two years earlier.
At the time she had laughed and said no scarf should cost that much.
He had responded that price did not matter.
Money was his answer to everything.
Now he shoved the scarf inside his coat and kept walking.
Orange light eventually appeared through the trees.
A cabin.
Smoke from the chimney.
Thomas reached his side.
“We stack at the door.”
“No.”
“Victor.”
“Nobody enters with me.”
“She may be armed.”
“Then she gets to decide what happens when I walk in.”
Thomas stared.
“Those babies are yours.”
Victor looked at him.
“They’re hers too.”
He removed his pistol.
Handed it to Thomas.
“Perimeter only.”
Victor climbed the porch.
He knocked.
Once.
No answer.
He knocked again.
“Nora.”
Something moved inside.
He waited.
The door opened six inches.
A double-barreled shotgun appeared first.
Sarah Jenkins behind it.
“Stop.”
Victor raised both hands.
Sarah looked exhausted.
Red cheeks.
Wet hair.
But steady.
“Where are the babies?”
“Not your concern.”
“It’s ten degrees.”
“They’re alive.”
“Are they warm?”
Sarah’s eyes shifted.
That was enough.
Victor’s fear sharpened.
“Nora.”
From inside:
“Let him in.”
Sarah glanced over her shoulder.
“Are you sure?”
“No.”
Nora’s voice sounded raw.
“But the babies need help.”
Sarah opened the door.
Victor stepped inside.
The heat from the fire struck his frozen face.
Then he saw his family.
Nora sat on a faded sofa.
Her dark hair was wet.
Her lips were pale.
Mia was inside her coat against her chest.
Leo lay wrapped in blankets beside her.
Both babies were crying weakly.
Not loudly enough.
Victor dropped to his knees before he reached the sofa.
“Nora.”
She looked at him.
The woman Victor remembered from three months earlier had been exhausted.
This woman looked carved out.
No softness left for him.
“You found us.”
“I did.”
“Of course.”
Her laugh sounded broken.
“Victor Rinaldi gets everything back.”
“I’m not here to take you.”
Sarah’s shotgun rose slightly.
Victor ignored it.
Nora stared.
“Then why did you chase us across two states?”
He had no good answer.
Because fear.
Because entitlement.
Because his first instinct when he discovered she left had been to mobilize men and close roads instead of asking what she needed.
“You’re right.”
Nora blinked.
Victor looked at Leo.
“The babies are too cold.”
“I know.”
“Let me get them to a hospital.”
“And then?”
“You decide.”
“Don’t.”
Her voice sharpened.
“Do not come in here after terrorizing half the Midwest and suddenly become reasonable because you found us.”
Victor took the hit.
“You’re right.”
“Stop saying that.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“The truth.”
Victor looked at her.
The fire cracked.
Wind battered the cabin walls.
“The truth is I thought providing money meant I was being a good husband.”
Nora’s expression did not move.
“I thought guards meant you were safe.”
Another.
“I thought because I never hit you, I wasn’t hurting you.”
Sarah lowered the shotgun by an inch.
Victor continued.
“I thought Sylvia was separate.”
Nora’s eyes filled.
“That is the stupidest thing you have ever said.”
“I know.”
“There you go again.”
Victor swallowed.
“I stayed with her because she expected nothing I didn’t know how to give.”
Nora’s face twisted.
“And the babies expected too much?”
“No.”
“I expected too much?”
“No.”
“You complained when they cried.”
“I did.”
“You left when I couldn’t stop crying.”
“I did.”
“You came home smelling like her.”
Victor looked down.
“Yes.”
Nora’s voice broke.
“I stood in that nursery one night holding both of them because Leo screamed every time I put him down and Mia had reflux so badly she was choking, and I called you six times.”
Victor remembered.
He had silenced the phone.
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
Her tears came now.
“You were in her bed.”
The words stripped away every excuse.
“Yes.”
Nora pulled Mia closer.
“I thought I was going crazy.”
Victor lifted his head.
“I thought maybe I was weak.”
Another.
“I thought every other mother somehow knew how to do this and I couldn’t.”
Another.
“And every time I tried to tell you, you bought something.”
Her mouth trembled.
“A night nurse.”
Another.
“A new stroller.”
Another.
“A bigger security team.”
Another.
May you like
“Everything except yourself.”
Victor felt those words settle somewhere nothing had ever reached.
