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Nothing in writing.
No evidence.
I also didn’t presently have a job, an apartment, any money to my name, save for maybe what was left in my bank account. I had no family to go to.
I had nothing.
And Warren had… everything.
What if they took my baby from me and gave him to Warren?
No.
Nope.
I couldn’t even attempt legal channels.
What then?
Where could I go with nothing to my name? With no way to start over?
Desperation started to claw at my chest as Judah got heavier and heavier in my arms. But I couldn’t put him down. He didn’t have shoes on.
I had to just keep pressing on, keep moving, get off the streets.
Because once Warren knew we were gone, he would move heaven and Earth to get us back. There’d be a full-on manhunt.
I walked out of the neighborhood and straight onto the main area of town.
Then, like a small beacon of light to my ship lost at sea, I saw it.
The library.
Somewhere free.
Somewhere to set my baby down, to occupy him with books and puzzles as I tried to figure out what my next move would be.
They likely wouldn’t look twice at Judah’s sock-clad feet. Not all babies wear shoes all the time. But mine? Mine might be a problem.
I just tried to rush through the doors and into the children’s section, setting Judah at the puzzle table, and kneeling on the floor next to him, and sitting on my feet, hiding them.
I sucked in my first deep breath as I watched Judah try to shove a whale into a little betta fish hole in the puzzle, doing so with the certainty that he was right, stabbing and stabbing.
Normally, I would have talked him through it, tried to guide him to find the right answer himself.
But my mind was scattered in a million places.
There were other things to worry about than Judah’s ability to figure out a puzzle.
My gaze moved around, seeing the adult section across the building, a line of computers sitting there.
If I had a card, I could use those endlessly to try to figure out my next move.
I had to get us somewhere.
I had to feed Judah.
And my mind was coming up blank.
