Chapter Thirty-Two: The Truth
Lucia noticed the change before anyone said a word.
It was in the way her mother stopped humming while cooking. In the way Margret double-checked the locks, even in daylight. In how she flinched at unfamiliar footsteps in the hallway, holding her breath until they passed.
Fear had returned.
Not the quiet kind Lucia had grown used to—the one that lived like a shadow in their home—but a sharper fear. Alert. Awake.
That night, Margret sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing her palms together. Her face looked thinner, drawn tight by more than illness. Lucia watched her from the doorway.
"Mum," Lucia said softly. "What's wrong?"
Margret didn't answer at first. She stared at the floor as if the truth were written there and she was afraid to read it aloud.
"Come here," she finally said.
Lucia sat beside her. Margret's hand closed around hers—cold, trembling.
"You remember the rules," Margret began. "All of them."
Lucia nodded. "Never give our real names. Never invite anyone here. Never tell anyone about you being sick."
"And never let anyone know where we came from," Margret added.
Lucia swallowed. "Yes."
Margret exhaled slowly. "Someone is getting too close."
Lucia's heart skipped. "Who?"
Margret's eyes lifted, meeting hers. There was no softness there now—only urgency.
"The past," she said. "The man we ran from."
Lucia felt the room tilt slightly. "David?"
Margret nodded once.
Lucia's chest tightened. "But… that was years ago."
"Yes," Margret said. "And he never stopped looking."
Silence fell between them.
Lucia thought of Eli. Of the man at the bus stop. Of the way Eli's eyes had changed.
Her voice came out small. "Are we in danger?"
Margret squeezed her hand. "We are being watched."
The words landed heavily.
Lucia stood up abruptly. "That boy—Eli. He asked questions. Not directly, but—"
Margret closed her eyes.
Lucia felt sick. "You knew?"
"I suspected," Margret said. "Hope makes us foolish. I wanted to believe we were safe."
Lucia paced the room. "So what now?"
Margret looked at her daughter—really looked at her. Lucia was no longer a child. She was tall now, her shoulders carrying more weight than they should have. She had seen hunger, fear, and sickness far too young.
Margret's voice broke. "Now I tell you the truth. All of it."
They sat at the small kitchen table as rain tapped against the window.
Margret spoke quietly, carefully, as if each word cost her strength.
"I didn't leave because I wanted a new life," she said. "I left because staying would have killed me."
Lucia listened, hands folded tightly in her lap.
"He cheated," Margret continued. "He got sick. And instead of admitting it, he blamed me. Told people I was dirty. Dangerous."
Lucia's jaw clenched.
"He planned to take you from me," Margret said. "He wanted custody. Control. Silence."
"So we ran," Lucia whispered.
"Yes."
Lucia's eyes burned. "And now he's found us."
"Not yet," Margret corrected. "But he's close enough to smell blood."
Lucia laughed weakly. "That's… comforting."
Margret managed a small smile. It faded quickly.
"You must understand something," Margret said. "This isn't about revenge. It's about ownership. He doesn't like losing."
Lucia stared at the table. "Eli's father works for him."
Margret stiffened. "You're sure?"
"I saw them," Lucia said. "And Eli… he's been listening more than talking."
Margret nodded slowly. "Then it's worse than I thought."
Lucia's voice shook. "He was kind to me."
"That's how hunters work," Margret said gently. "They don't chase. They wait."
Lucia felt tears spill over. "I brought him close. I broke the rule."
Margret stood and pulled her into an embrace. "No. You were lonely. That's not a crime."
Lucia buried her face in her mother's shoulder. "I don't want to run again."
"I know," Margret whispered. "Neither do I."
The next morning, Margret woke with pain coiled tight in her body. She ignored it.
Fear was louder than illness now.
She packed essentials quietly while Lucia watched, heart pounding.
"Just in case," Margret said.
Lucia nodded. "I won't talk to Eli again."
Margret hesitated. "No. That would raise suspicion."
Lucia froze. "You want me to keep pretending?"
"For now," Margret said. "Distance without disappearance."
Lucia hated how logical it sounded.
At school, she saw Eli waiting by the gate.
"Hey," he said. "You didn't answer my messages."
"I was busy," Lucia replied, forcing calm into her voice.
He studied her face. "Everything okay?"
"Yes."
The lie tasted bitter.
They walked together, but Lucia felt every step like walking on glass. Every word he spoke sounded measured. Every silence felt intentional.
"You ever think about leaving this place?" Eli asked casually.
Lucia stopped walking.
"No," she said sharply.
Eli raised his hands. "Just curious."
Her chest tightened.
That afternoon, Lucia took a longer route home, circling streets twice before entering the building. Margret watched from the window, curtains barely parted.
"You were careful," Margret said.
Lucia nodded. "He knows something."
Margret leaned heavily against the counter. "Then we don't have much time."
Lucia swallowed. "How much?"
Margret didn't answer.
That night, Lucia couldn't sleep.
Every sound felt amplified. Every shadow stretched too long.
She replayed every conversation she'd ever had with Eli, every detail she might have given away without realizing it.
Her phone buzzed.
Eli:Are you okay? You seemed scared today.
Lucia stared at the screen.
Her fingers hovered, then typed.
Lucia:Just family stuff.
Three dots appeared. Then stopped.
Another message came through.
Eli:You know you can trust me.
Lucia's throat closed.
She turned off the phone.
Across the city, Eli sat on his bed, staring at his own screen.
His father stood in the doorway.
"She's pulling away," Eli said quietly.
"That's normal," his father replied. "Fear makes people predictable."
Eli didn't look at him. "She's not lying. She's protecting someone."
"Exactly," his father said. "And protection leads us home."
Eli's voice dropped. "What happens when you find them?"
His father paused. "That depends on your employer."
Eli's stomach twisted.
Margret woke before dawn.
She sat at the table, hands shaking, and finally said the words she'd been avoiding.
"We may not outrun him this time."
Lucia felt ice spread through her veins. "Then what do we do?"
Margret looked at her daughter—this brave, tired girl who had already sacrificed too much.
"We survive," she said. "Even if it means facing the truth instead of running from it."
Lucia nodded slowly.
Outside, a car idled longer than necessary.
Lucia noticed.
So did Margret.
And in that moment, Lucia understood fully, painfully—
They weren't just being searched for anymore.
They had been found.