Chapter 2

I found the camp.

Deep in the wooded hills outside town, a place with high fences and the distant sound of barking.

It took me three days of frantic searching, calling numbers that went unanswered, driving down dirt roads.

A stern-faced man in camo pants met me at the gate. He looked like he'd forgotten how to smile.

"Ma'am?"

I showed him Noah's picture, my hands trembling.

His face didn't change. "Ah, yes. The Miller boy."

He led me to a small, grim office.

"There was an incident," he said, his voice flat.

The same words Jessica used.

My blood ran cold.

"Noah... he tried to run. Climbed a fence into a restricted area."

He paused, looked down at his desk.

"We keep our security dogs there. Rottweilers. For perimeter control."

I couldn't breathe.

"They... they're trained to be aggressive with intruders."

He finally looked at me, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.

"He didn't make it, ma'am. I'm sorry."

The world tilted. Sounds faded.

He was saying more words, but they were just noise.

They gave me a small plastic bag. Inside, a torn piece of a blue t-shirt I'd bought Noah, the one with a cartoon rocket on it. A single, muddy sneaker.

The grief was a physical thing, clawing its way up my throat, choking me.

For fifteen years, I had held my tongue, terrified of the chaos my words could unleash.

Now, looking at the remnants of my son's life, the dam inside me broke.

A sound tore from my chest, raw, hoarse, a sound I hadn't made in over a decade.

My voice, when it finally came, was a rasp, barely a whisper, but filled with a chilling certainty.

I looked at the man, but I was seeing Kevin.

"Kevin," I croaked, the name like rust in my mouth.

"You will pay for this."

My voice gained a strange, thin strength.

"Everything you value. Your precious business. It will turn to dust."

The air in the small office seemed to drop several degrees.

"You will have nothing. You will be nothing."

The man stared at me, his eyes wide now.

The first prophecy was spoken.