Chapter 2: The Photo at the Front Desk
Charles spent the night in a holding cell.
He didn't sleep.
He didn't ask for anything.
He sat on the bench with his hands folded and made three phone calls.
By morning, his lawyer was at the station.
By noon, all charges had been quietly dropped.
When he walked out into the sunlight, his phone showed 14 missed calls — all from the same number.
Gabriel.
He didn't call back.
He went straight to the hospital.
Chloe was awake, but barely.
Her wrists were bandaged.
There were dark circles under her eyes that looked like they had been there for months.
"Dad…
they're going to take Mason from me.
Gabriel said if I ever tried to leave, he'd make sure I lost everything."
Charles took her hand.
"He can't take what doesn't belong to him."
"You don't understand.
His family has lawyers.
Connections.
They know judges."
"So do I."
Chloe looked at him — really looked at him — for the first time in years.
Before she could speak, a nurse stepped in and handed Charles a folded piece of paper.
"A man left this at the front desk.
Said it was urgent."
Charles opened it.
His expression didn't change.
But his jaw tightened.
It was a photo of Mason — taken that morning — outside his school.
May you like
Written across the bottom in red ink: *Back off.
Or next time we take something you can't get back.*
