Chapter 2: The Envelope Under the Door
I sat in that taxi for a long time, staring at the black card in my hand.
Six million dollars.
No logo.
No name.
From a twelve-year-old boy.
My mind kept going back to the courtroom.
The way Noah had stood so straight.
The way his voice hadn't wavered once.
No hesitation.
No tears.
That wasn't my son being cold.
That was my son being careful.
I called the unknown number back.
It rang once, then disconnected.
I tried again.
Nothing.
That night I couldn't sleep.
I sat on the edge of my bed in that damp little apartment and went through every memory I had of the past six months.
The way Noah had stopped hugging me goodbye in the mornings.
The way he'd started whispering on the phone with his door closed.
The way he'd looked at me sometimes — not with coldness, but with something closer to fear.
Not fear of me.
Fear for me.
Then I remembered something Ellis had said three weeks before the hearing, when he didn't know I was still in the hallway.
He was on the phone, his voice low and hard.
"She can't find out.
Not yet.
Keep the boy in line and this stays clean."
I hadn't understood it then.
Now I did.
Ellis wasn't just taking Noah away from me.
He was using Noah to keep me from finding something out.
The next morning, a plain white envelope appeared under my apartment door.
Inside was a single photograph.
My hands went still when I saw who was in it.
---
What's in that photograph — and how deep does Ellis's secret really go?
The full truth is darker than anyone expected.
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