Chapter 7 No.7

The taxi dropped them off in front of a motel in Queens that looked like it was held together by grime and bad intentions. The neon sign buzzed ominously, the "NO" in "NO VACANCY" flickering on and off.

Are you sure about this place, lady? the driver asked, eyeing a group of rough-looking men on the corner.

It's fine, Annelise said, handing him another bill. "Thank you."

It wasn't fine. It was a rat hole. But it was cash-only, and it didn't require ID scanning.

They hurried into the lobby, which smelled of stale smoke and bleach. Annelise paid for a room on the second floor, using the name "Mary Smith."

The room was small, with two sagging double beds and peeling floral wallpaper.

Check the room, Annelise said automatically. It was a game they played, but today it wasn't a game.

Algernon went to the TV. He pulled it away from the wall and disconnected the coaxial cable. "No smart devices," he muttered. He checked the phone, unscrewing the mouthpiece to check for bugs. "Clear."

Blace dragged a heavy armchair and wedged it under the door handle. He took a glass cup from the bathroom and balanced it on the doorknob. If anyone turned it, the glass would fall and break.

Perimeter secure, Blace announced.

Clemie took out a small spray bottle of lavender sanitizer she made herself and started spraying the pillows. "Germs," she whispered. "So many germs."

Annelise sat on the edge of the bed, her head in her hands. She felt like she was vibrating.

Mom? Algernon stood in front of her. "Who was that man at the airport? Logically, based on his intense reaction and a preliminary facial structure analysis, probability suggests he could be a biological relative."

Annelise looked up, her heart aching at their innocent but sharp questions. "No, Algy. That's a coincidence," she said firmly. "Your biological father was... just a stranger from a long time ago. Someone I never saw again."

Then who was the man chasing us? Blace asked, his voice hard, tiny fists clenched.

That was Archibald Sanders's security team, Annelise said haltingly, the name leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. "The Sanders family is very dangerous, powerful. He is my ex-husband."

If he's not our dad, why do we have to hide from him? Clemie asked softly, pausing her sanitizing.

Because of his pride and his control, Annelise explained, her voice trembling slightly. "Archibald is a ruthless billionaire. If he finds out I had children right around the time our marriage ended, he will view it as a betrayal, a stain on his reputation. He won't care who the real father is. He has the money and the lawyers to ruin us. He could take you away just to punish me, or use you as pawns."

He won't take us, Blace vowed, punching his palm. "I won't let him."

We need a plan, Algernon said. He sat cross-legged on the floor with his tablet. "I am accessing the local Wi-Fi. I'm routing through three proxies to mask our location."

Annelise watched him work. "Be careful, Algy."

Wait, Algernon said, his brow furrowing. "This is interesting."

What?

I'm scanning local private security chatter. There's a high-priority alert out for a woman and three children on The Sanders Group's corporate network. It's modern, encrypted with AES-256. That's his company hunting us.

Annelise felt a chill. "He's using his own army to hunt us."

But there's more, Algernon said, his voice dropping. "I've detected a separate query, routed from inside that network to a much older, private server. The encryption is archaic... almost twenty years old. It's a different system entirely."

His fingers flew across the screen. "Got it. It's the Sanders Family Trust's private server. It's not connected to the corporation. This is... personal. I'm in."

The name Hilliard, Archibald's powerful and shadowy grandfather, flashed in Annelise's mind. The thought of the old patriarch having a separate, secret network made a deeper, colder fear coil in her gut.

What's on it? she whispered.

Algernon's face was grim. "It's a query. An old one, reactivated an hour ago. It's not looking for you, Mom. It's a standing order to flag and report on 'children with exceptional cognitive or kinetic abilities' that enter the New York area. They're not just hunting a person. They're hunting prodigies. Like trophies."

Turn it off, Annelise said. "Turn it all off. We can't be online."

Night fell. The sounds of sirens wailed outside the thin window.

The kids fell asleep in one bed, tangled together like puppies. Annelise sat in the chair by the window, watching the street through a crack in the curtains.

She held her phone. She debated calling the one number she had. The man who had helped them in Europe. But she couldn't drag him into this.

High above the city, in the penthouse of Sanders Tower, Archibald was staring at a screen too.

We found the taxi, Casimiro said. "Dropped off in Queens. The Starlight Motel."

Archibald stood up. "Get the team. We go now."

Sir, it's 2 AM.

I don't care. Archibald buttoned his black coat. "I want answers."

Back at the motel, Annelise's eyes were heavy. She was drifting off.

Then she heard it.

Clink.

The glass fell off the doorknob and shattered on the floor.

Annelise bolted upright.

The door didn't open. It was just a test. Someone trying the handle.

Mom? Blace woke up instantly, sliding off the bed into a crouch.

Shh, Annelise hissed.

Then the window exploded.