Page 133 of The Widower
A shot rang out, and I caught a glimpse of Colin falling to the side, writhing in obvious pain.
“Go, Isabelle!” he managed to say, struggling.
The next thing I knew, I was running through the mansion with the two children...
“What was that noise, Isabelle?”
“Where’s the secret room your dad mentioned?” I asked, breathless as we ran, ignoring Joshua’s question. The only thing that mattered was getting to safety as fast as possible.
“It’s inside his bedroom.”
That was the opposite direction from where we were headed.
I tried to cut through another hallway, but about twenty meters ahead I spotted one of Marcos’s men standing right in front of us. The gunshot must’ve alerted him.
“Who’s that man, Mommy?”
I ignored my daughter too, grabbed both their hands, and ran the other way. Before turning the corner, I looked back—theman was smiling, walking toward us. He knew we had nowhere to run. Or at least he thought so.
This is my fault. All of it. Because of Rudolph’s damn debt. But I can’t think about that now—I have to protect the kids. Colin put himself in danger for us.
Colin…
I couldn’t stop thinking about the sound of the gunshot, terrified of not knowing where he’d been hit—or how bad it was. I needed to come up with something, fast.
We rushed into Colin’s bedroom, and I locked the door behind us.
“Where’s the place your dad was talking about, Joshua?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“Oh, it’s here!”
It was the same spot I’d been in days ago, where Colin worked on his projects—but back then, I hadn’t noticed it required a code to open.
“The password’s my dad’s birthday—December tenth.I think it’s one-two-one-zero.”
I punched it in quickly, but it didn’t work.
He must’ve changed it.
“Do you remember any other password, Joshua?”
“No! That’s the only one I know, Isabelle!”
“I’m gonna find you…” one of the men sang down the hallway, his voice echoing closer.
“Is this part of the game, Mommy?”
I didn’t answer.
Think, think, think!
“Let’s try it backward.”
I typed one-zero-one-two. The door instantly clicked open, and we slipped inside.
At least for now, we were safe.
COLIN ADAMS
