19
RACHEL
Ifind Lucas in the gym exactly where Khalid said he'd be, kicking a soccer ball with Odin chasing enthusiastically. His laughter echoes off the walls, bright and innocent and everything I'm about to take away from him.
"Lucas, baby," I call from the doorway. "Can you come here for a minute?"
He jogs over, slightly breathless, carrying Ghost. "What's up, Mom?"
"There's someone here who wants to see you. Someone you know." I crouch down to his level. "Remember Micah? The man who helped us leave Mexico?"
Understanding dawns in Lucas's eyes. He clutches Ghost tighter. "The wolf man?"
"That's right. He gave you Ghost, remember?" I smooth his hair back. "He needs to ask you some questions. About what you saw at the grocery store that day."
Fear flashes across his face. "The bad thing?"
"Yeah, baby. The bad thing." I pull him close, feeling him tremble slightly. "But I'll be right there with you the whole time. And if it gets too scary or too hard, we stop immediately. Okay?"
Lucas is quiet for a long moment, pressed against me. Then he pulls back and nods with a seriousness that shouldn't exist in a six-year-old.
"Okay. If it helps keep us safe."
My heart breaks and swells at the same time. "You're so brave. You know that?"
"You tell me all the time." He manages a small smile. "Can Ghost come too?"
"Ghost can definitely come."
We walk to the conference room together, Lucas's grip tight on my hand. Hawthorne waits inside with recording equipment set up and a calm expression designed to put children at ease. Stryker stands against the back wall, presence reassuring without being intrusive.
Lucas sees Hawthorne and his face lights up despite the circumstances. While he never visited, up until a couple of years ago, Hawthorne kept tabs on us with the occasional video or phone call. "Mr. Micah! You're here!"
"Hey, Lucas." Hawthorne crouches down, bringing himself to eye level. "You've gotten big. And you still have Ghost, I see."
Lucas holds up the worn stuffed animal proudly. "He goes everywhere with me."
"Good. That's what he's supposed to do." Hawthorne gestures to the chairs arranged around a small table. "Want to sit down? Your mom's going to be right here with you, and we're just going to talk about what you saw. Just like telling a story, okay?"
Lucas nods and climbs into the chair beside mine. I reach for his hand under the table. Stryker remains against the wall, silent but present.
Hawthorne starts the recording with date, time, and participants logged. Then he turns his attention to Lucas with the kind of gentle focus that makes him good at this.
"Lucas, I need you to tell me about the day at the grocery store. The day you saw something scary. Can you do that?"
Lucas nods slowly. "We were shopping. Mom got a phone call about work. I got bored and went to look around."
"That's okay. You didn't do anything wrong." Hawthorne's voice stays calm and steady. "Where did you go?"
"To the back. There's an alley behind the store. I heard voices and went to see." Lucas grips harder. "There were two men. One was on the ground. The other one was standing."
"Can you describe the man who was standing?"
Lucas closes his eyes like he's seeing it again. "Tall. Brown hair. He had a tattoo on his arm. A snake wrapped around a knife."
That detail. That specific, damning detail that identifies Kessler beyond any doubt.
"What happened next?" Hawthorne asks gently.
