Part 15:

 Because you’re right. People died and I knew it was happening and I did nothing. That’s on me. But maybe I can help make it right. Ethan called Rebecca Marsh. She conference called the federal prosecutors. By end of day, Frank Morrison was scheduled for an interview. When Frank left, Ethan stood in the empty garage and felt for the first time in weeks, like maybe this wasn’t hopeless.

 That feeling lasted until Friday morning when another brick came through his window. This time, there was a note attached. We know where your daughter sleeps. Ethan stood frozen, staring at the note tied to the brick with twine. The handwriting was different this time. Blocky, deliberate, like someone had tried to disguise it. His hand shook as he pulled out his phone and photographed the brick, the note, the shattered glass scattered across the concrete floor for the second time in a week.

 He called Rebecca Marsh first, then the police, then Celeste. That’s it, Celeste said when he told her. You’re taking Maya somewhere safe. I don’t care if you think it’s running. This isn’t about pride anymore. Where am I supposed to go? I can’t afford the house upstate. I already told you it’s yours for as long as you need it. Celeste, Ethan, they threatened your daughter directly.

 You don’t get to be stubborn about this. Her voice cracked slightly. Please let me help. He closed his eyes. Every instinct told him to stay, to fight, to refuse to be driven out of his own town. But the note kept flashing in his mind. We know where your daughter sleeps. Okay, he said quietly. But just until the hearing.

 Once I testify, once this is in the courts, there’s no point in threatening us anymore. Deal. The police arrived 20 minutes later. Same older deputy from before, whose name plate read Morrison. No relation to Frank, apparently. He examined the brick, took photos, bagged the evidence with the kind of practice deficiency that suggested he knew it wouldn’t lead anywhere. Mr.

 Cross, I’m going to be straight with you. Deputy Morrison said, “This is escalating. First the window, now this. The these people, whoever they are, they’re not playing around. You think I don’t know that? I think you need to consider relocating, at least temporarily. I am. We’re leaving tonight. Morrison looked relieved. Good. That’s good.

 I’ll increase patrols on your street until you go. But after that, he trailed off, not needing to finish. After that, Ethan was on his own. Mrs. Patterson showed up while the deputy was still there. She took one look at the broken glass and her face went pale. “Oh, Ethan, we’re leaving town for a bit,” he said.

 “Can you watch the house while we’re gone? Make sure nobody breaks in.” “Of course, but where will you go?” “Friend has a place upstate. We’ll be safe.” She hugged him quick and fierce. “You call me if you need anything. Anything at all.” After everyone left, Ethan swept up the glass, boarded the window again, and locked the shop.

 He didn’t know when he’d be back. Didn’t know if there’d be a business left to come back to. At home, he packed bags for both of them. Maya watched from her bedroom doorway, clutching her stuffed rabbit. “Are we going on a trip?” she asked. “Yeah, Bug, just for a little while.” “Why?” “Because daddy needs to go somewhere for work, and I don’t want to leave you here.

” “What about school? We’ll figure it out. Maybe you can do some online stuff for a few weeks. Will Mrs. Patterson come?” No, just us. Mia’s face crumpled. I don’t want to go. I want to stay here. Ethan knelt down to her level. I know. I don’t want to go either, but sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to do because they keep us safe.

 Safe from what? He couldn’t tell her the truth. Couldn’t say that someone had threatened to hurt her. From all the crazy stuff happening with work. It’s just easier if we’re somewhere quiet for a bit. She didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t argue. They finished packing in silence. By 7:00 p.m., they were on the road. Ethan had texted Celeste for the address and directions.

 The house was 3 hours north in a part of the state where the towns got smaller and the trees got thicker. Maya fell asleep in the back seat somewhere around the 2-hour mark, her head tilted against the window. Ethan drove through the dark and tried not to think about everything he was leaving behind. His shop, his routine, the town where he’d raised Maya for 6 years.

 It felt like losing, even though he knew it wasn’t. The house was at the end of a long gravel driveway surrounded by woods. It was bigger than Ethan expected. Two stories, modern with huge windows that probably looked out over something beautiful in the daylight. There was a gate at the entrance with a code Celeste had texted him.

 He punched it in and the gate swung open. Inside, the house was pristine. Hardwood floors, expensive furniture, a kitchen that looked like something from a magazine. There was a note on the counter in Celeste’s handwriting. Master bedroom upstairs, two guest rooms down the hall. Security system code is 4471. Fully stocked fridge.

 Stay as long as you need. 4471. The same number as the defective part. Ethan didn’t know if that was intentional or darkly ironic. He carried Maya upstairs and tucked her into one of the guest beds. She stirred but didn’t wake. He stood there for a moment watching her sleep, then went back downstairs and poured himself a drink from the well stocked bar.

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