I sat in my car for two hours, unable to move, unable to think, unable to do anything but stare at the photo of Noah that Vanessa had left behind like evidence of my crimes.
*Three and a half years.* That's how long I'd been living with this secret, and in the space of one conversation, it had been weaponized against me.
My phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number.
*Just to be absolutely clear on the terms of our agreement.*
Another text followed immediately:
*1. You and Noah disappear tonight. No forwarding address. No contact with mutual acquaintances. You become ghosts.*
*2. You never tell Noah who his real father is. Marcus Jennings remains his father, dead and buried.*
*3. You never attempt to contact Damien in any way. No letters, no phone calls, no showing up at his office
