Life had become ordinary again.
And ordinary felt miraculous.
Then one Tuesday morning, I found a photograph in my mailbox.
No stamp.
No envelope.
Just a single glossy photo folded in half.
My hands started shaking before I even opened it.
The picture showed Noah leaving kindergarten three days earlier.
A red circle had been drawn around him in marker.
On the back, four words were written neatly in black ink.
YOU STILL OWE US.
I couldn’t breathe.
I locked every door in the house before calling Mara.
She answered immediately. “What happened?”
I sent her a photo of the picture.
Silence.
Then: “Do not leave the house.”
Fear crashed into me all over again.
“Mara…”
“I’m coming.”
She arrived in less than two hours with another man I didn’t recognize. Tall. Gray suit. Sharp eyes that scanned every window before he stepped inside.
“This is Special Agent Daniel Reeves,” Mara said quietly. “He worked Owen’s case.”
