Darla looked at him.
“Yes.”
“He didn’t say goodbye?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because if he had, I would have known.”
The answer hurt precisely because it made sense.
“Two days later Doyle came to the door,” Darla said. “Caleb had left a letter. He explained enough. He told me they had followed him. He told me the club was moving us if necessary. He told me you were not to know until you were older and safe.”
“And you kept waiting for older.”
“Yes.”
“For four years.”
“Yes.”
Eli looked at the table.
“I understand why you thought you were protecting me.”
Darla’s eyes filled.
“I’m trying to.”
“That doesn’t make those four years disappear.”
“No.”
“I need you to understand that.”
“I do.”
“You let me think he didn’t want us.”
Darla’s composure failed by degrees.
“I know.”
The words came out broken.
Eli did not forgive her in that moment.
He did something harder and more honest.
He stayed in the room.
Raina’s phone buzzed.
She checked it, and whatever she read erased the rest of the conversation from immediate priority.
“We need to move.”
Darla looked up.
“What?”
“The number that texted Eli is a burner. We can’t identify the owner, but the last tower ping puts it within two miles of this house.”
Eli stood.
Raina continued.
“Hargrove’s people have also confirmed two vehicles rotating through this neighborhood for forty-eight hours.”
Darla’s old instincts returned so visibly that Eli watched the change happen. Her posture straightened. Her eyes moved toward windows. Her breathing slowed.
“They’ve been watching us.”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“We only have forty-eight hours confirmed.”
Darla looked at her son.
“Get your coat.”
Eli did.
Raina did not take the main road back to the compound.
She drove south on Belcher Creek Road, a longer route that crossed low timber and a stretch of county land where cell service appeared and disappeared without warning. She drove at a normal speed. Eli noticed this because normal speed had become suspiciously deliberate.
Darla sat beside him in the back seat.
Her hands rested in her lap, but she was not withdrawn. Her eyes moved to mirrors, intersections, parked vehicles, driveway mouths, and the occasional road behind them. Old habits had come back with alarming fluency.
“How bad?” she asked.
Raina kept her eyes ahead.
“Manageable.”
“That isn’t a number.”
“It’s what I have.”
Darla was quiet.