30
ATHENS, GREECE
The Greek Tribune: August 11, 2010
A five-year-old boy,known only as Noah, was abducted yesterday afternoon from the Port of Piraeus in Athens, while awaiting the arrival of his adoptive parents from America.
Witnesses report that a family of three, claiming to be the child’s adoptive relatives, arrived aboard a 450-foot mega yacht and took Noah with them. Some bystanders believe the vessel may have originated from France, though this has not been confirmed.
Earlier that day, a private jet carrying Noah’sactualadoptive parents crashed into the Aegean Sea. The couple, identified as Mr. Anthony A. Jarrell and Mrs. Gloria Jarrell of Connecticut, USA, were en route to Athens to finalize the adoption. Tragically, both were killed. They leave behind two children, Alexander and Teya Jarrell, who remain in the United States.
An investigation into the crash is currently underway. Preliminary reports suggest engine failure may be to blame. According to the aviation officials, the flight crew radioed concerns about mechanical issues shortly before all contact was lost over the Aegean.
Noah has been in the custody of Greek Social Services since 2005, after being found abandoned in a cardboard box near the Albania-Greece border. His biological parents remain unknown, and his place of birth is still undetermined. He is described as having blond hair, blue eyes, and weighing approximately thirty pounds.
Anyone with information about Noah’s current whereabouts is urged to contact the local authorities immediately.
31
NOAH
Elijah’spersonal driver rounds the car and opens the door. Instead of calling a car service, Alex had arranged for the chauffeur, and I’m quietly grateful he did. The plush leather seats in the Lincoln Town Car feel like heaven after the stiff hospital bed I just peeled myself out of.
Still groggy from the meds, I shuffle out of the car and lean into Alex for support. He hesitates, clearly annoyed, muttering something under his breath, then relents and lets me depend on him. I feel the tension in his arm and the raw edge of his jaw, but I try to ignore it, savoring his warmth despite the prickling edge of irritation. His skin smells like fresh linen with a trace of coconut, and I breathe him in as we make our way toward the elevator.
“Have you tried calling Gabriel?” Alex asks, voice tight with annoyance. He’s clearly not thrilled about being here. Especially after the bombshell the doctor just dropped.
I tug at the collar of my sweatshirt, fighting the burn in my eyes. “Not yet,” I mutter through a yawn. I’m too drained to deal with anyone else right now. I just want to crawl back into bed.
He slides my keycard through the reader and punches in the digital code to my floor.
“Then maybe you’d like to take this opportunity and explain what’s going on,” he says, his tone harder now. “I’ve been more than patient.”
I lift my head from the warm crease of his neck, the comfort of him slipping away with the moment.
It’s time.
This isn’t how I wanted it to happen. Not like this. I wanted to hold on a little longer. To live in his light. To let him care for me the way he would have from the very beginning.
The way he would have if he’d only known.
I was his brother.
My stomach knots as I force myself to meet his eyes, even though part of me wants to look anywhere but at him.
“America is my sister,” I whisper, the words bitter on my tongue.
“Who?” he asks, blinking, clearly not recognizing the name. “Ameri-who?”
I take his hand gently, guiding him off the elevator and into the hallway, heart thudding so loud I can barely think.
“Meera.” I sigh. “Her real name is America. And she’s… my sister.”
He stops cold. Drops my hand like it’s on fire.
“What. The fuck. Are you talking about?”
I open my mouth to answer, but before I can, he shoves me—hard—slamming me back against the wall. My body hits it with a sickening thud, the force rattling through my bones. For a second, I just stand there, stunned, head ringing, anxiety crawling its way through my veins again.
