Chapter 4 - The Runaway Truth
The neon lights of the downtown district blurred as Sarah sprinted down the concrete sidewalk, her evening wrap slipping from her shoulders.
Behind her, the muffled shouts of Richard Vance's enforcers faded into the heavy hum of city traffic.
She ducked into the narrow, dimly lit alleyway behind a 24-hour diner, pressing her back against the brick wall to catch her breath.
Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird.
They were tracking her.
Richard Vance—one of the most respected philanthropists and real estate moguls in the state—was actively hunting her down to protect a dark secret.
Why?
What connection did the Vance family have with David's disappearance and the little boy in the photograph?
Sarah pulled her phone from her pocket with trembling fingers.
She needed allies.
She needed someone outside of this wealthy, corrupt circle who could help her dig up public records without triggering the Vance family's digital surveillance systems.
She dialed her younger brother, Mark, who worked as an independent investigative journalist in a neighboring city.
The phone rang twice before a groggy, deep voice answered.
“Sarah? Do you know what time it is? Emma's wedding should be ending.”
“Mark, listen to me very carefully,” Sarah whispered fiercely, tears blurring her vision. “I don't have much time. David is alive.”
Silence hung on the other end of the line for three agonizing seconds.
“What did you say?” Mark's voice snapped instantly awake. “Sarah, have you been drinking? David died twelve years ago. I went to his funeral.”
“It was a lie, Mark! All of it!” Sarah sobbed quietly, pressing her hand over her mouth. “He walked into the ballroom tonight. He handed me a photo of Emma from October 2014—three weeks before the crash—standing with a little boy I've never seen before. And now Richard Vance's men are trying to kill me or silence me!”
Mark swore loudly on the other end.
“Where are you right now?”
“Downtown, near the old municipal records archive. I'm going to break into the digital archives or find the physical files from the 2014 pediatric clinic records. I need to know what happened to Emma that autumn.”
“Don't do that alone, Sarah! Those people are dangerous. If Richard Vance is involved, he owns half the police department and municipal offices in this state!”
“I have no choice, Mark. My daughter is married to their son. She's trapped in their web, and she doesn't even know it.”
“Fine. Stay put in that alley. Don't move an inch. I'm boarding the midnight red-eye flight right now. I'll meet you at the old archive building in three hours.”
“Hurry, Mark,” Sarah whispered, glancing nervously toward the mouth of the alley. “I think they're looking for me.”
She hung up and slid down the brick wall, pulling her knees to her chest.
She looked at the Polaroid one more time under the amber glow of a streetlamp.
The little boy in the picture had distinct, almond-shaped eyes and a small mole beneath his left ear.
Where was he now?
Was he even alive?
As Sarah sat there in the cold night air, the heavy iron door at the end of the alley clicked open.
Heavy footsteps crunched against the gravel.
May you like
Sarah held her breath, pressing herself flat against the damp brick wall.
A flashlight beam cut through the darkness, sweeping slowly across the pavement, coming closer and closer to her hiding spot.
