Chương 3
But inside that small space, the noise felt distant.
Jude made a tiny sound.
I adjusted the blanket around him.
“You need to stop holding your breath.”
Roman looked confused.
“What?”
“You’re doing it every time he moves.”
“I am not.”
“You are.”
He stared at me.
Then he looked away.
A few seconds passed.
“People usually don’t talk to me like that.”
“I noticed.”
“And you’re not scared?”
I thought about the question.
The honest answer was complicated.
“Yes.”
His eyes returned to mine.
“But not in the way you think.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I’m scared of a lot of things.”
I looked down at Jude.
“Just not you.”
Something about that answer seemed to bother him.
Maybe because he was used to fear being the only thing people offered him.
“Why did you quit the hospital?”
The question came unexpectedly.
I looked at the baby.
“That’s not exactly a train conversation.”
“Most things involving me are not normal conversations.”
A small laugh escaped before I could stop it.
It surprised both of us.
The sound disappeared quickly.
“I lost my daughter.”
Roman did not move.
“I’m sorry.”
“She got sick.”
His eyes dropped.
“I know what that sounds like.”
“What?”
“Like I’m explaining something simple.”
“You don’t have to explain.”
“I do.”
The word came out sharper than I intended.
I swallowed.
“She had a fever.”
The train passed over a section of track that made the cabin shake slightly.
“I brought her in.”
Roman stayed quiet.
“I trusted the doctors.”
“You should have.”
“I did.”
My fingers tightened slightly around Jude’s blanket.
“And then I went home without her.”
Roman looked down.
The silence after that was not uncomfortable.
It was just honest.
“I’m sorry,” he said again.
This time I believed him.
A few minutes later, Jude moved his mouth slightly.
I checked his face.
“He’s getting tired again.”
Roman immediately leaned forward.
“What do we do?”
The question sounded strange coming from him.
Not because he asked.
Because he asked me.
“We keep him calm.”
“That’s it?”
“For now.”
“That doesn’t sound like enough.”
“It usually isn’t.”
His expression tightened.
I understood that look.
It was the look of someone who wanted a weapon, a plan, a person to blame.
Anything except waiting.
“Waiting is the hardest part,” I said.
Roman looked at me.
“You know that?”
“Yes.”
“From your daughter?”
“Yes.”
He nodded slowly.
The man who had probably ordered other people to make decisions in seconds was sitting beside me learning that sometimes there was no decision.
Sometimes there was only staying.
The door opened.
Victor returned.
His face was different.
Not afraid.
Worried.
That was worse.
“What happened?” Roman asked.
Victor closed the door behind him.
“Kincaid has someone inside Union Station.”
Roman’s expression hardened.
“How do you know?”
“Because they sent a photo.”
He handed over the phone.
Roman looked at the screen.
I did not mean to look.
I did anyway.
The picture showed the train platform.
A crowd of people waiting.
Nothing unusual.
Except a red circle around one person standing near the entrance.
A man wearing a gray coat.
Roman stared at the image.
“Who is he?”
Victor’s jaw tightened.
“Someone who worked for you.”
The words changed the air.
Roman looked up.
“Worked?”
“He disappeared six months ago.”
“Why didn’t I know?”
“Because you told me to handle internal problems without bringing them to you unless they affected business.”
Roman looked angry.
Then confused.
Then tired.
“I said that?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“After Elise died.”
The name landed softly.
But Roman reacted like someone had struck him.
Victor looked down.
“I thought you needed fewer problems.”
Roman rubbed his hand over his face.
“And instead?”
“Instead I made the decision for you.”
Neither man spoke.
It was the first crack I had seen between them.
Not betrayal.
Something more painful.
Two people who cared about each other discovering that protection could become another form of control.
Jude began fussing.
The moment broke.
Roman handed the phone back.
“What do we do?”
Victor looked at me.
I expected suspicion.
Instead, there was something else.
Reluctant acceptance.
“We get off before Union Station.”
Roman shook his head.
“Too risky.”
“We cannot bring them into a crowd.”
“I know.”
“We need another option.”
Roman looked toward the window.
Outside, the landscape had changed.
More buildings.
More roads.
The city was getting closer.
I watched his reflection in the glass.
A man who had built his life around having options suddenly had none.
“Where is the nearest stop before Washington?” I asked.
Both men looked at me.
“What?” Roman said.
“Where is the nearest stop?”
“Baltimore.”
“How long?”
“About twenty minutes.”
I looked at Victor.
“Is there somewhere private there?”
He hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Safe?”
Another hesitation.
“No place is completely safe.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Victor looked at Roman.
Roman gave a small nod.
“There is a medical contact there.”
“Good.”
Roman frowned.
“You’re making decisions very quickly for someone who said she was scared.”
“I am scared.”
“Then why are you calm?”
I looked at Jude.
“Because he isn’t.”
Roman followed my eyes.
The baby had stopped crying.
Not because everything was okay.
Because he was too exhausted.
That was what scared me.
“We don’t have time to argue about who is afraid,” I said.
Victor looked at the clock.
Then at Roman.
“We need to decide now.”
Roman stood.
The movement was immediate.
Controlled.
The version of him people expected.
But when he reached for Jude, his hands were careful.
Almost uncertain.
“Naomi.”
I looked up.
It was the first time he said my name.
“Yes?”
“If something happens.”
I waited.
“Take them.”
The sentence felt heavier than it should have.
“You mean?”
“If I cannot.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
His expression hardened.
“Listen to me.”
“No.”
“Naomi.”
“I am not making a promise that you disappear.”
The words came out before I could soften them.
May you like
Roman stared.
“I don’t know you well enough to promise anything else.”
