My stomach seemed to sink.
“Ryan,” I breathed.
“Is that your husband?” Noah asked.
“Ex-husband. Almost.” My voice cracked. “He changed the locks on me. He froze my account. He hasn’t asked to see Lily in three weeks.”
Mara kept her expression composed, although a subtle change passed through her eyes. “Then we move now.”
She guided us past the front galley and along a narrow staff passage before the remaining passengers were allowed off. Complaints rose somewhere behind us. Farther ahead, two security officers waited beside an elevator reserved for employees.
Relief should have washed over me.
But the only thought occupying my mind was that Ryan had tracked me down.
Back in Austin, I had packed my belongings while Lily slept in her crib and raindrops tapped against the glass. I had abandoned our wedding photographs, chipped mugs, and the blue sofa we had purchased back when we thought love could withstand financial struggles and difficult days. Everything I brought was limited to what I could physically carry.
Yet somehow, he had managed to follow me anyway.
The elevator shut behind us.
Noah remained nearby without making physical contact, while Lily gripped the neckline of my shirt. Her tiny fingers held on, warm and completely trusting. I kissed her hair and struggled to keep myself together in front of people I barely knew.
“Emily,” Noah said gently, “did Ryan know you were going to Chicago?”
“No. I told one person. My aunt Claire. She’s letting us stay with her.”
Mara turned briefly toward one of her colleagues. “Get eyes on the aunt’s address.”
“No,” I said quickly. “Please don’t scare her.”
Mara faced me again. “If he found your flight, he may already know where you’re going.”
