Page 56 of Fat Betrayed Mate
I'm helping Maisie hang up her backpack when I catch Nic's voice drifting from the adjacent conference room.
"—specifically hunting for Fiona and her daughter, according to the prisoners—you heard it too. This isn't random violence, Thomas. It's personal."
My blood turns to ice. I step closer to the partially open door, Maisie distracted by a friend's new drawing.
"I know that," Thomas says, his voice tight. “You think I don’t know? You think I don’t think about it every moment?”
I can hear Nic’s frown as he responds: “Watch your tone, Thomas.”
"Jesus." I can hear Thomas moving, pacing, probably. “Sorry. You just—it’s just—”
“I know.” A soft thump, like Nic, has patted Thomas on the shoulder. “I know.”
My vision starts to tunnel. This is my fault. Every threat against Silvercreek, every family displaced, every child living in fear—it's all because I brought Edward's obsession here.
He’s looking for me. The note told me as much, but now the pack knows it too.
Will they toss me out? Find some way to punish me for it?
Will they hand us over?
"We need to increase security around all families," Thomas says. "Especially them.”
"Already in motion. But Thomas, if this man is as dangerous as our prisoners suggest—"
"He is." Thomas's voice carries absolute certainty. "Edward Wright is capable of anything."
The way he says it makes me freeze. Not like someone speculating about a stranger, but like someone who knows. Really knows.
"Mama?" Maisie tugs at my sleeve. "Can I go play with Katie?"
I nod absently, my mind racing, nausea rising in my throat. How long have they known? How long has Thomas been playing some elaborate game, pretending ignorance while planning... what? When he’s known my father is hunting me?
What else does he know?
"Ms. Wright?" The teacher appears at my elbow, concerned. "Are you alright?"
"I need to take Maisie home," I manage to say. "She's not feeling well."
It's a lie, but I can't leave her here. Not when I don't know who else knows the truth, who else might be watching her with new understanding.
"Maisie, sweetheart," I call, my voice artificially bright. "Come on, we're going home."
"But I just got here!"
"I know, baby. We'll come back later."
She protests, but I'm already gathering her things, my hands shaking as I zip up her backpack. I need to get her away from here, need to think, need to figure out what this means for us.
The walk home feels endless, my paranoia spiking with every glance from passing pack members. Do they all know? Are they all just waiting for orders to turn us over to Edward?
Once inside, I lock the door and pull the curtains closed. Maisie settles on the couch with her coloring books, oblivious to my panic.
I pace the living room, my mind churning through possibilities and implications. Edward is specifically hunting for us. The pack leadership knows who I am. Thomas has been lying about his knowledge of my father.
The walls feel like they're closing in, the cottage suddenly too small to contain my fear. We need to run. Tonight, before whatever Edward is planning comes to pass, before the pack decides we're too dangerous to protect.
But even as I think it, I know it's impossible. Edward will track us wherever we go. He's had six years to perfect his hunting techniques, six years to build a network of contacts and resources. Running will only delay the inevitable.
