Chapter 4
I’d never felt so free, yet so terrified.
North Carolina was nothing like New York. The quiet, tree–lined streets and sprawling fields were a world apart from the bustling chaos I’d left behind. It was peaceful here- exactly what I needed.
For three days, I’d stayed in a small, rented room in a cozy neighborhood. Three days of ignoring the relentless calls and messages Zack sent, somehow finding new numbers every time I blocked him.
Harriet, come back.
Stella needs you.
You can’t run forever.
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Chapter 4
I deleted them all. He could threaten, beg, or demand all he wanted–I wasn’t going back. I refused to let him control me anymore.
But the calls never stopped. Each buzz of my phone felt like a tether pulling me back to a life I was determined to escape.
I had to change my number.
The market smelled of fresh bread and ripe fruit as I walked past the stalls. My coat was pulled tight around my swelling belly, my heart pounding with nerves.
I was running low on money and needed a part–time job before the twins arrived. Zack had taken care of everything when we were together–bills, rent, groceries–but now I was on my own. An orphan without a safety net. My gaze darted across the bustling market as
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I made my way toward the service desk of a small phone shop. The clerk handed me a form, and I scribbled down my information, my hands trembling slightly as I finalized my new number.
When I stepped out of the shop, a TV in the corner of the store caught my attention. A news anchor’s voice echoed through the market, drawing a small crowd around the
screen.
“The Colen family, one of the wealthiest in the United States, has raised the reward for information leading to the discovery of their missing daughter,” the anchor announced.
A photograph of a stern–looking older man and a regal woman flashed across the screen. Beneath it, an image of a tiny teardrop-
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shaped birthmark on a heel.
“Their daughter was lost over two decades ago in a tragic incident. She has a distinctive teardrop birthmark on her right heel. Her father, gravely ill, wishes to pass down the family business to her before it’s too late.”
!
The murmurs of the crowd buzzed in my ears as I took a slow step back. A teardrop birthmark. I had one.
But it couldn’t be possible.
I shook my head, dismissing the thought. I’d grown up in an orphanage, my parents supposedly lost in a fire when I was just a baby. Whoever the Colens were looking for, it wasn’t me.
Still, the image of that birthmark lingered in my mind as I turned and walked away,
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clutching my bag of groceries.
The streets were quiet as I crossed toward my apartment, the hum of traffic distant but steady. My phone buzzed in my pocket.
I glanced down, fumbling with the bag in one hand and my phone in the other. The screen lit up with a text from an unknown number.
Harriet, pick up. We need to talk.
I stopped in my tracks, my breath catching. How did he get this number? I’d just changed it. My hands shook as I stared at the screen, the world narrowing around me.
The sudden blare of a car horn yanked me back to reality.
I looked up, but it was too late.
The headlights were blinding, the sound of
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screeching brakes deafening. My groceries
spilled to the ground as my phone slipped from my hand.
Then everything went dark.
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