Then I hear it.
A small voice.
“Mom?”
My heart stops.
“Noah?”
His voice comes again, thin and frightened.
“Mom!”
I try to run toward the sound, but the men yank me back hard. My shoulder burns where one of them grabs it.
Through a half-open doorway I see him.
Sitting on the floor. Two men standing nearby with guns.
His cheeks are wet with tears.
The moment he sees me, his face crumples.
“Mom!”
That breaks something inside me.
I lunge forward.
“Let me go!” I scream, twisting against their grip. “That’s my son!”
I kick one of them hard enough to make him curse. I bite another hand that tries to grab my arm.
For one second, I almost break free.
Then, something slams across my face.
The world flashes white.
I taste blood immediately. My knees buckle again, but they haul me upright by the hair this time.
“Crazy bitch,” one of them mutters.
I’m still fighting when the room suddenly goes quiet.
The kind of quiet that happens when someone important walks in.
The men holding me straighten slightly. A figure steps out of the shadows.
The man is older than the others. Better dressed, too. His suit doesn’t look like it was stolen or pieced together from department store sales, but likemoney. Real money. The kind of suit worth more than all my organs combined.
Which means he’s the boss.
“Finally,” I spit out with more bravado than I feel. “About time management showed up.”
His mouth ticks upwards. He studies me with cool interest, like I’m something he’s deciding whether to keep or discard.
His English, when he speaks, is perfect.
