Chapter 18 - The Boy Who Followed the Light
Matthew was supposed to be at the safe apartment with Mrs. Alvarez and two guards. When Omar called, neither guard answered.
We raced there with the police behind us. The apartment door was open. Mrs. Alvarez was tied to a chair, shaken but alive. The guards were gone.
"They came for him," she cried. "He heard them say his father's name. He ran through the back door."
Nicholas went white.
We searched the neighborhood. I found a small blue toy truck near the alley, one wheel broken. Matthew had carried it through every move, every hiding place, and every night he had been told to stay quiet. I picked it up and felt a sharp, useless anger rise in my chest. The adults had made plans, forged papers, moved money, and traded threats. A seven-year-old had been left to carry one small toy and hope someone came back for him. It was the same truck Matthew had carried since the church.
A note was tucked beneath it.
The lighthouse. Come alone.
Nicholas wanted to run straight there. I stopped him.
"That's what they want."
We called the detective and split into two teams. Omar took the back road with the officers. Nicholas and I approached the lighthouse from the shoreline.
Inside, we heard a child crying.
Matthew was in the lower room, tied to a chair but unharmed. A man stood behind him with one hand on the boy's shoulder.
Camila stepped from the shadows.
"You should have taken the deal," she said.
Nicholas moved forward.
"Let him go."
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Camila raised a phone. On the screen was a live video of Rose in her hospital room. A nurse stood beside her, frightened.
"One step closer," Camila said, "and both of them disappear."
