Chapter 7 - The Trap at the Diner
-7-
Leah stared at the glowing screen as if it were a venomous snake. The phone buzzed against her palm, the rhythmic vibration cutting through the silence of the abandoned warehouse like a dental drill.
“Don’t answer it,” Mae whispered, her eyes wide with alarm. “They must have tracked your mobile account through the hospital’s internal network or pinged your old Apple ID.”
“They know I’m gone,” Leah whispered back, her thumb hovering over the red decline button. “If I don’t answer, they’ll assume I’m still in the city and flood the police reports with that psychiatric hold Doreen filed.”
“So what? Let them search.”
“No,” Leah said, a hard, cold resolve settling into her voice that surprised even herself. “If they control the police and the hospital board in Columbus, running won't save us forever. We need to know what they know. We need to lead them into a trap of our own.”
She pressed the green accept button and brought the phone to her ear, keeping her breathing shallow and steady.
“Leah?” Nathan’s voice came through the speaker, tight, controlled, and dripping with a sickeningly false veneer of concern. “Where are you? Dr. Rusk called. You left your room in the middle of the night. You’re postpartum, you’re unstable—do you have any idea what kind of danger you’re putting yourself and the baby in?”
“Where is my baby, Nathan?” Leah asked, her voice dangerously calm.
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. The sound of rustling paper drifted through the speaker, followed by Doreen’s muffled voice in the background (“Ask her where she hid the chart”).
“Your baby is safe, Leah,” Nathan recovered smoothly. “He’s in the neonatal intensive care unit under specialized observation. But you need to come back right now. Security is looking for you everywhere. If you come back voluntarily, we can pretend this whole episode was just a medication reaction. Mom has already arranged for a private suite at the country estate for your recovery.”
“My baby isn't in the NICU, Nathan,” Leah said, her lips curling into a bitter smile. “Because I’m holding him right now.”
The silence on the line was absolute. For three seconds, Nathan didn't breathe. Then the mask of a worried husband shattered completely, replaced by the cold, metallic voice of a man whose multi-million-dollar plan had just derailed.
“Where are you, Leah?” Nathan hissed, his voice dropping an octave. “You can’t leave the county. Every highway patrol unit between here and Cincinnati has your license plate number.”
“I’m not in a car, Nathan,” Leah said softly. “And by the time you figure out where I am, I’ll be out of the state.”
She ended the call, powered the phone off, and pulled out the SIM card, snapping the tiny plastic chip in half with her fingernails before tossing it into a dark corner of the warehouse.
“That bought us twenty minutes,” Mae said, pulling her jacket tighter around herself. “Maybe thirty if they have to trace the cell tower bounce manually.”
“We need to get out of Columbus,” Leah said, struggling to her feet with the baby securely bundled against her chest. “My sister Sarah lives in a small town outside of Pittsburgh. If we can reach the Greyhound station on the north side before dawn, we can catch the six o’clock bus.”
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“A bus station?” Mae shook her head. “That’s the first place they’ll check with security cameras. Doreen’s family practically owns the regional transit authority.”
“Then we don’t use the front entrance,” Leah said, her eyes locking onto the alley behind the warehouse. “We need a car.”
