The next few days were tense.
But I kept going.
I still showed up to work at the diner.
I cleaned my apartment.
I ate properly.
I tried to follow a routine like nothing had happened.
Still, every small sound made me flinch.
A door closing in the hallway.
Footsteps outside.
The elevator moving.
But this time, I had something new to remind myself.
He was in prison.
He couldn't reach me.
Right?
On Saturday evening, I sat on my couch scrolling through the news on my phone. The apartment was quiet.
The fridge hummed softly in the background.
Everything felt normal.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
For a second, my heart stopped.
But I forced myself to breathe.
Answer it.
I pressed the screen.
"Hello?"
"Morrow?"
a voice asked on the other end. I swallowed.
"Mr. Morrow speaking."
There was a short pause.
"Mr. Morrow, the man got bailed out shortly after he was locked in."
The room tilted slightly.
"What??"
My voice came out sharper than intended.
"By who, if I may ask?"
I heard papers shuffling.
"His file said it was his brother. Stay safe."
The line went dead.
I stared at the phone.
Slowly, the pieces came together.
Uncle Gregory.
The man I had seen only once or twice in my entire life.
The man I barely remembered.
Now I remembered enough.
Enough to be careful.
Enough to understand that this wasn't over.
That night, I didn't sleep well.
I decided to call in sick for the following week.
Mental reasons.
Not a lie.
Just not something I wanted to explain.
The manager listened carefully.
He was kind about it.
"Take the time you need,"
he said calmly.
"We'll manage. Your health comes first."
I felt something unexpected at that moment.
Support.
Understanding.
I thanked him and hung up.
Back in my apartment, I sat quietly on the couch.
The situation had changed again.
He was free.
Uncle Gregory was involved.
The danger wasn't gone.
But this time, I wasn't alone, running without a plan.
I had an apartment.
A job.
Money saved.
A new identity.
And knowledge.
I stood up and walked to the window, peeking through the curtain.
The street looked normal.
Peaceful.
But now I understood something important.
Safety wasn't just about hiding.
It was about being ready.
I locked the front door once.
Then checked it.
Just once.
Not out of fear.
Out of awareness.
Jake Morrow wasn't running anymore.
He was preparing.