Men.
Plural.
I grabbed Noah from his room while he cried in confusion.
“Mama, what’s happening?”
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“It’s okay,” I lied. “Just stay with me.”
Outside, footsteps pounded through wet grass.
Then came the sound that made my blood freeze.
The slow creak of the backyard swing moving.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
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Even though there was no wind.
An agent shouted, “STOP!”
A gunshot exploded.
Noah screamed against my shoulder.
Another shout.
Running footsteps.
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Then silence.
Minutes later, Mara entered through the front door with her weapon still drawn.
Her face told me everything before she spoke.
“They got away.”
I felt my knees weaken.
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Mara caught me before I hit the floor.