2025-11-30 22:41:52
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Chapter Thirty-Nine
Finding a place to park in Chicago was harder than Marcus had anticipated.They couldn't use a parking garage. Too many cameras. Too many attendants who might remember faces. Too much structure and control that could trap them if things went wrong.Street parking was better. Anonymous. Easy escape routes. But finding a spot in downtown Chicago at nine in the morning was like finding water in a desert.Marcus circled the same six-block radius for twenty minutes. Torres had stopped offering suggestions. Just sat quietly, watching the streets pass.Finally, Marcus spotted a space. Residential street. Lower West Side. Far enough from downtown that they wouldn't draw attention, close enough that they could walk to Willis Tower if they needed to.He parallel parked. Not perfect, but good enough. Killed the engine.For a moment, neither of them moved. Just sat in the sudden silence. The car ticking as the engine cooled. Traffic sounds muted through the windows."Now what?" Torres asked."Now
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Marcus had been awake for thirty-six hours straight.He knew this because he'd been counting. Marking time by the position of the sun. By the ache in his muscles. By the way Torres kept nodding off in the passenger seat, then jerking awake with a start.They'd stolen the car six hours ago. A Honda Civic. Gray. Forgettable. Parked behind a convenience store with the keys under the floor mat; either incredible luck or incredible stupidity on the owner's part.Marcus wasn't complaining either way.He kept the speed exactly at the limit. Five miles over would get them pulled over. Five miles under would draw attention. Exactly at the limit meant they were invisible. Just another car on the highway.Interstate 94. Heading southeast toward Chicago. About forty miles out now. Maybe an hour if traffic stayed light.Torres stirred in the passenger seat. Blinked. Looked around like he'd forgotten where they were."We close?" His voice was rough with sleep."About an hour.""Jesus. I was out.""
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Park looked worse than Sarah felt, which was saying something.Her clothes were torn. Mud caked on her jeans up past the knees. Leaves and twigs stuck in her hair. A long scratch down her left cheek, dried blood crusted at the edges. She was limping slightly, favoring her right leg.But she was here. She was alive.Sarah felt something loosen in her chest. Relief so intense it was almost painful.Park saw her. Their eyes met across thirty feet of sidewalk. For a moment, neither of them moved. Just stood there looking at each other. Confirming the other was real. Was safe.Then Park limped forward. Faster now, despite the injury. And Sarah was moving too, closing the distance between them.They met in the middle. Sarah wanted to hug her, to physically confirm she was solid and present and okay. But they were in public. In daylight. Had to maintain some semblance of normalcy."You made it," Sarah said quietly. Her voice came out rougher than she intended. Emotion catching in her throat.
Chapter Thirty-Six
6:31 AM.The sunrise was in full effect now. Gold light streaming through the windows, cutting across the diner in bright slashes. Sarah had to squint against it. Her eyes, already strained from lack of sleep, protested the sudden brightness.She shifted in the booth, angling herself so the light wasn't directly in her face. Her body complained at the movement. Every muscle stiff. Her lower back a knot of pain from sitting too long in one position.Sarah stretched as much as she could without drawing attention. Rolled her shoulders. Flexed her fingers. Tried to work some circulation back into her limbs.She'd been sitting here for over four hours now. Four hours of waiting. Four hours of watching the clock tick forward with agonizing slowness.One hour and twenty-nine minutes left.6:38 AM.The breakfast crowd was thinning out. People getting their food to go. Heading off to jobs and obligations. The family with the two kids left, the children still chattering excitedly about somethin
Chapter Thirty- Five
4:47 AM.The woman with the paperback left. She'd been there for forty minutes, reading and sipping her coffee with methodical patience. Now she closed the book; Sarah caught a glimpse of the cover, something with a lighthouse, tucked it under her arm, and headed for the door.The bell chimed. Then silence.Just Sarah and Denise now.The diner felt different without other customers. Bigger somehow. Emptier. The hum of the refrigerators behind the counter seemed louder. The fluorescent lights buzzed in a way Sarah hadn't noticed before.Denise was in the back somewhere. Sarah could hear her moving around in the kitchen. The clatter of dishes. Water running. The sounds of someone cleaning up between the late-night rush and the early-morning one.Sarah shifted in the booth. Her back ached from sitting too long. Her legs were stiff. She wanted to stand. To pace. To move.But movement drew attention. Movement looked suspicious.So she stayed still and tried to ignore the discomfort.4:53 A
Chapter Thirty-Three
The coffee was terrible.Sarah wrapped both hands around the chipped ceramic mug, letting the heat seep into her palms. Her fingers were still numb from the woods; not frozen, it wasn't that cold, but that deep ache that came from being wet and cold for too long. The kind of cold that settled into your bones and didn't leave just because you were indoors now.She took another sip. Burnt. Bitter. Probably been sitting on the burner for hours. But it was hot, and that was enough.2:23 AM, according to the clock on the wall behind the counter. Five hours and thirty-seven minutes until the library opened. Until she'd know if Park made it.‘If.’Sarah pushed the thought away. Park would make it. She had to.The diner was nearly empty. Just Sarah in her back corner booth, a trucker at the counter nursing his own coffee and scrolling through his phone, and a waitress; name tag said DENISE, who looked like she'd been on shift since yesterday and had another eight hours to go.Sarah had chosen
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