We both flinched.
It was a text. From an unknown number.
Unknown Number
Maybe I should remind your daughter what loss feels like... It would be a shame if she had to lose someone else she loves.
The words didn't register at first. Just shapes. Letters arranged on a screen. Then meaning crashed in like a freight train.
My vision narrowed to a pinpoint. I couldn't breathe. Not because I was afraid, but because the rage was so complete it left no room for oxygen. My hand tightened around the phone until the case creaked, plastic groaning under pressure.
"Jack?" Anna's voice came from very far away.
I couldn't look at her. If I looked at her, I'd see what Carter was threatening to take. What he thought he couldtouch. My free hand curled into a fist at my side, shaking—not with fear, but with the physical effort of not putting it throughthe window.
"Jack, what does it say?"
I showed her the screen, watching her face drain of all color. A strangled sound escaped her throat, and her hand flew to her mouth.
I was already dialing James, each button press deliberate, controlled.
"He just texted." My voice came out low, deadly. I barely recognized it as my own. "He's threatening Daisy."
"Read it to me." James's voice sharpened instantly, all business.
I did. There was a string of curses on the other end, more creative than I'd ever heard from him.
"He's upping the stakes," James said, his voice tight. "Trying to paralyze you with fear. Make you do something stupid. I'm tracing this number now, probably a burner, but we'll try. I'll call the Marshals. This escalates it to an imminent threat against a minor. It changes everything."
Throughout the call, I didn't realize I'd reached out until Anna's hand was in mine.
Her fingers were ice-cold. I held them tightly, anchoring us both to something solid while James talked about BOLO alerts, FBI involvement, and tactical response teams. The words washed over me, important but distant. What mattered was the small, cold hand in mine and the little girl sleeping down the hall.
When I hung up, I turned to Anna. She was shaking, full-body tremors she couldn't control.
"Listen to me." My thumb stroked over her knuckles, the gesture instinctive. "He's trying to get inside our heads. He wants us scared, making mistakes, running. We will not."
I led her to the sofa, not letting go of her hand. We sat, and I angled toward her, needing her to see my certainty even if I didn't entirely feel it.
"The rule is simple, Anna. Until he's in custody, you do not leave this apartment. Not for any reason. Not for the foundation, not for a walk, nothing. Vance or I will be with you at all times."
She nodded, her terror-stricken eyes locked on mine. "Okay."
"I called Margaret earlier," I said, shifting to something practical to ground us both. "Told her about the situation. Your Saturday reading is cancelled. Everyone at the foundation is on alert; they know not to give out any information about you to anyone. Emma Reed texted too, asking if we were okay."
The mention of the foundation, of Margaret’s concern, and Emma's kindness seemed to calm her down slightly. A reminder that life existed beyond this siege. That there were still good people, still things worth protecting.
"Emma wanted me to tell you that the kids asked about you," I added softly. "They made you drawings. She's keeping them safe until you can come back."
A tear slipped down Anna's cheek. "If I can come back."
"When," I corrected firmly. "When you come back."
Finally, it was time to retreat. Officer Martinez, a quiet man with kind eyes and a shoulder holster, was settled in the guest room with a direct line to building security. The penthouse was as secure as it could be.
I walked Anna to the door of the second guest room, the one she'd use tonight and every night until this ended. She paused at the threshold, looking up at me, the weight of the day etched into every line of her face.
Without thinking, I reached up and gently tucked a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear. My fingers lingered against the softness of her skin, her pulse fluttering beneath my touch like a trapped bird.
