Tio's betrayal and my rescue

When I woke up, pain consumed me. My throat burned, and instinctively, I reached for my neck—only to realize I couldn’t move. Panic set in as I discovered I was restrained. I hated being restrained. My heart pounded, and the machines around me erupted into frantic beeping.

The noise jolted Doc awake. His eyes widened before he bolted into the hallway, shouting for help. Within seconds, doctors and nurses flooded the room.

A sharp prick in my IV. A rush of drowsiness. My body grew heavy, my vision hazy. Then came a sharp, tearing pain as the breathing tube slid from my throat.

"You were shot," Doc said, his voice tight. "Tio tried to kill you."

Shock rippled through me. Why? I mouthed, my throat too raw for sound.

"You wouldn’t tell him where your brother and Kay were hiding Anthony," Doc explained. "He was going to take Anthony, but he’s in prison now."

"How long?" I mouthed again.

"Twenty years," he answered. "Anthony has been here every day. He remembers you—he pats your face and says, 'Love. Mama.' Your brother still has him."

I swallowed past the pain. "The Powers That Be?"

"They went to Kay’s office to warn her about Tio, but they were too late," Doc said. "She’s fine. Security arrested him, and he won’t be getting out anytime soon."

A shaky sigh left me. Relief. Weak, but real. 

I was relieved to have Doc with me, and I fell asleep holding his hand. Knowing he would stay by my side through the next few days gave me a sense of peace, and I slept soundly without dreams.

When I woke the next morning, I was comforted to find Doc still there, squeezed onto the hospital bed beside me. I nudged him awake as the surgeon who had operated on me entered the room.

“Good morning, ma’am,” the doctor greeted me. “I don’t have a name for you other than Jane Doe. How are you feeling this morning?”

“Tired and thirsty,” I whispered hoarsely. “When can I leave?”

“Ms. Doe, you’ll need to stay a few more days. You lost nearly three-quarters of your blood and are extremely weak. We had to give you multiple transfusions during surgery.”

“I want to leave tomorrow. I own this hospital.”

The doctor remained unfazed. “I’m treating you like any other patient, regardless of hospital ownership. Even Doc agrees—you’ll be here for at least two more nights.”

“Promise?” I asked, sighing. “I don’t sleep much, and I hate being bored.”

“We’ll find something to keep you occupied tomorrow. But for today, your only job is to rest and stay hydrated.”

“Like what? The books here are children’s play, there’s nothing educational on TV. I need to see my son…I will not tolerate him being exposed to the strain of germs, bacteria and viruses that are in the hospital.”

“There’s a lot that needs to be reorganized in the hospital and its departments. The lounges are a mess and not properly stocked, department leadership is lacking, and we need better staff.”

“Put together a list of department heads you want me to review, along with the lounges that need attention and the supplies they’re missing. I’ll handle it.”

“When do you need the list?”

“After your rounds, charting, and everything else.”

“You’re my last patient for rounds, so once I’m done charting, I’ll pull everything together. Maybe an hour or so?”

“That works,” I said.

After the doctor left, Doc helped me up so I could undress, slip on my sandals, and take a shower. Once I was clean, I put on some of my own clothes, though I had to settle for a hospital gown with shoulder snaps since the IVs in both arms made wearing a regular shirt impossible.

Shortly after, breakfast arrived, but it looked far from appetizing. Fortunately, Doc ate it instead, and just a few minutes later, Kay showed up with food from home. She knew how much I hated hospital meals and that I’d be starving. Unfortunately, everything she brought was soft food. Doc must have told her my throat was sore from the intubation tube and that even swallowing water was painful. Being the wonderful friend she is, Kay brought yogurt, pudding, Jell-O, and Nutella. I was beyond grateful.

Two hours later, the doctor returned with an armful of pens, highlighters, notepads, and a few lists for me to review. We sat down to brainstorm, reworking the hospital’s staffing structure and calling in department heads. It wasn’t a smooth process, but with input from Doc and my surgeon, we updated policies, procedures, and even reassigned leadership roles where necessary.

We also touched on department budgets, though I was fading fast and needed to rest. At that point, the responsibility shifted to Doc and the other hospital administrators. I knew it wouldn’t be fair to the hospital, the staff, the volunteers, or the patients for me to make all the decisions alone.

I slept for several hours, and when I woke up, a few unfamiliar nurses were adjusting my IV bags. I immediately told them to step back and asked for the charge nurse.

A few minutes later, the charge nurse arrived and asked what the issue was. I explained that I only wanted nurses I knew and trusted handling my care and that I had no idea who these nurses were. Once the charge nurse realized who I was, she completely understood and agreed, promptly banning those nurses from my room.

After they left, she excused herself to grab some paper and a pen. When she returned, she asked me to provide a list of staff members I trusted. It was a short list, but with those names in hand, she granted them primary access to my chart and then instructed IT to restrict the rest of the hospital from viewing my records. One notable person excluded from access was Doc—I didn’t want to explain any past, present, or future procedures to him.

Later, I ate more of the food Kay had brought. My brother stopped by for a visit, Doc checked in between patients, and Kay called a few times to see how I was doing. I was glad to get some work done, even if the doctor had only created something to keep me occupied—it was still necessary work.

When Doc finished his shift, he ran home to shower, change, packed a bag, and then came straight back to the hospital. We arranged for an extra hospital bed to be brought into the room so we could both sleep more comfortably.

Boats, custody and Tio

 We kept going until the boat ran out of fuel. When we reached shore, I handed my brother the paperwork and told him he had temporary custody of Anthony. I’d explained it to Anthony days ago—he understood some of it.

“I trust only you and Kay with him,” I said. “Talk to her—she’s already set things up for you. She’s waiting up the way.”

My brother nodded. He and Anthony hugged me before they left. I told them I was waiting for someone, and I was.

Tío had been waiting at the landing site for days. Once the coast was clear, he climbed onto the boat and found me asleep on the bed. He nudged me to wake me up.

"What the actual fuck?" I asked. "Didn't anyone tell you to knock before entering? Weren't you supposed to get paperwork that prevents you from being near me?"

Tío smirked, unbothered.

“Didn’t get the memo,” he said, stepping further inside. “Besides, I figured you’d be expecting me.”

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, sitting up. “Expecting you? No. Expecting some peace and quiet? Maybe.”

He chuckled, leaning against the doorway.  “You always did have a mouth on you.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “And you always had a habit of showing up when I least wanted you to.”

Tío shrugged. “What can I say? Some things never change. Kay can't keep an eye on you when she's already watching your brother and Anthony. She sticks close to the office and home.”

“And you know this how?” I asked.

“I’ve been trying to get her to talk to me in person, but she keeps telling me to book an appointment through her secretary. I know she’s been busy with you,” he said. “She was my attorney!”

“She pretended to be your attorney so she could help you,” I shot back. “Do you even realize how many laws she broke just to keep both of us alive? A lot. She had a whole ethical crisis because you just had to drag her into your mess.”

"What happens if someone finds out she represented both of us—even if one of us was presumed dead?"

"She’d be suspended. And if they found out she benefited from representing both clients, she’d be permanently disbarred. She wouldn’t be allowed to practice law again in the country. No law office would touch someone with a record like that."

"I'll leave her be then," he said. "And I’ll stay away from you too—most people think you’re dead anyway."

"Thanks," I said. Then, after a beat, "You know, I really did love you, Tío."

He shrugged. "I still love you, Lee. I know that's not your real name, but it's the name I know you by—the person I love." He paused, his expression unreadable. "Take care of yourself."

I nodded as he left, waiting until he was out of sight before finally getting out of bed. Gathering the few clothes I had, I tossed them into the boat’s sink, rinsing away the layers of dirt, grime, and sweat. The process felt endless—the water darkened with filth each time I wrung them out.

Luckily, I’d found some biodegradable, reef-safe soap, which made washing them easier. As they hung to dry, I grabbed the soap and waded into the water to bathe.

The cool water against my skin was pure relief. After weeks on the road, I must have reeked, but for the first time in a long while, I finally felt clean.

I climbed aboard, used what little deodorant that I had, brushed my hair and teeth. I was just waiting on my clothes to dry. While waiting for my clothes to dry, I decided to explore the boat a little bit. I found some paper and a pen. Figured that I'd write a letter to the owners and apologize.

"To Whom It May Concern,

My sincerest apologies for taking your boat without permission. I understand that without your consent, it is considered theft. Before involving the authorities, please know that I was running for my life—and for my son’s. He’s just over a year old.

To keep it brief, I believed I was working for the right side of the government, but I wasn’t. I imprisoned the wrong people and protected those who should have been behind bars. Three people helped me escape that splinter group, and together, we brought them down.

Since then, I’ve lied, faked a marriage, staged my own death multiple times, and even altered my handwriting—all to protect myself and my son. Now, I’m turning to some of the very people I once imprisoned, asking for their help. Many refuse, and I don’t blame them. But a few are willing.

Attached to this note is the business card of my attorney. If you’ve found your boat, please contact her. I left her funds to cover the cost of any damages, as well as fuel for the vehicles I used. She knows who I am, but please don’t ask her any questions—she is legally bound not to disclose my identity or that of those assisting me.

I know that my circumstances don’t justify taking what isn’t mine, and I don’t expect forgiveness. But I hope you can understand why I did it.

My deepest apologies."

I checked on my clothes—finally, they were dry. I put on the least-worn set and packed the rest. Before leaving, I did a final sweep of the boat, making sure I had everything I’d brought with me. Satisfied that nothing was left behind, I set off on the next leg of my journey.

I knew my brother, Anthony, Kay, and I would find each other again—we always did. But for now, my priority was finding safety for the night. Donny, Alessia, and their child had disappeared, and I tried to avoid relying on the same people more than once. Brief assistance was safer than repeated favors.

Not long into my trek, I entered a small town. A sign at the entrance read Population: 3,000. That meant my stay here would be short.

As I moved closer to the town center, more shops, restaurants, and homes lined the streets. I passed by a restaurant where the owner was on his phone. The moment his eyes landed on me, something flashed across his face—recognition. And not the good kind.

He hung up quickly.

“HEY!” he shouted. “Hey, stranger!”

I picked up my pace, hoping to avoid unwanted attention, but he was faster. Within seconds, he caught up to me.

"Lee? I knew that was you," he said.

I sighed. "I was halfway through town, hoping to get through the rest without drawing attention. Thanks for ruining that. Now, every nearby town is going to hear that a stranger passed through, and guess who they'll be watching for?" I whispered sharply.

He smirked. “Stranger was your code name.” He placed a firm hand on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

I tensed. “Let go of me,” I hissed. “If I scream or make a sudden move, this whole town will be on us—and they’ll take your side. My son’s life is in danger. I’m trying to protect him.”

His expression shifted slightly. “Where is your son?”

"He’s safe," I repeated. "Look, I know we don’t trust each other, but if you let me pass through quietly, no one will know you’re here. And no one will know I saw you."

"Fine," he said. "But come inside first. I'll feed you, let you rest, and when you head out, I'll pack some non-perishable food for you. I’ll throw in plenty of water, electrolyte powder, and some filters for fresh water. I know we don’t trust each other, but I get it—keeping your family safe comes first. Three years ago, I faked my own death."

I narrowed my eyes. "Prove it."

"What?"

"Show me your obituary. It should still be online. I’m not going anywhere with you until you do," I said. "And when you show me, you’ll loudly give me directions to some other place—somewhere we both know I won’t actually go."

"Sorry, ma’am," he said loudly, making sure the small crowd nearby could hear as he scrolled through his phone, searching for his obituary. "I thought you were someone I knew. After you eat, you’ll keep going just like before I stopped you. Head north at the end of town, and keep going until you reach a small dock. One of the boaters will take you to your next destination. See how the town looks on this map?"

He handed me his phone as I scanned through the obituary. I double-checked with other newspapers, making sure the story held up. Eventually, I was satisfied. It was enough to trust him—at least enough to accept a meal and supplies.

I returned his phone and followed him into the restaurant. As I stepped inside, I glanced over my shoulder. The small crowd had grown, more curious eyes watching us than before.

"Just grab whatever nonperishable food you can for me," I murmured. "And if there’s a back door, I’ll leave through it a few hours before dawn."

"I'll feed you a real meal first, ok?" he said.

I sat on a stool at the counter, keeping my bag on the stool beside me—close enough to grab if I needed to run. As I drank water, I watched him carefully, studying every movement as he prepared my meal. He served me a massive plate of pasta with meatballs and sausage in marinara sauce—enough for three people. But hunger made quick work of it. I ate everything.

When I finished, I noticed the disposable plate, utensils, and paper cup he’d given me. It wasn’t just convenience—it was a way to ensure I left no trace of DNA behind. Smart.

I asked where the bathroom was, and he gestured upstairs to his living quarters. My expression must have given me away because he quickly offered the staff restroom instead. I nodded, grabbing my bag and placing the disposable items in a plastic bag before heading off.

When I returned to the counter, he was gone. In his place was a neatly stacked pile of supplies—nonperishable food, three four-liter bottles of water, several empty three-liter bottles, packets of electrolyte mix, and multiple travel water filters used by hikers. I packed everything into my bag, then found a hidden corner in the back of the restaurant where I could wait until it was safe to leave.

There, I spotted a cot with a blanket. Resting on top was a note:

"I closed the restaurant and left town. There’s a key under your pillow—use it to lock up when you leave. I assume you still have the same lawyer, so I transferred the restaurant’s ownership to her. In six months, it will belong to you, your son, and any future children. By then, the townspeople will have forced me out, and they’ll have moved on, too.

There’s something strange about this town—no resident stays more than six years, and business owners last ten at most. But I’ve only made it four. Someone here knew who I was.

Thank you for getting me out."

I fell asleep quickly after checking to make sure that the doors were locked. I heard noise at the front door so I dressed, grabbed my bag and as I was heading to the back door, I headed back to the cot so I could grab the pillow and blanket for future uses. This time, I hope, I wasn't stealing. I left and locked the door behind me.

I retraced my steps through town, then walked fifteen miles west before turning south, keeping parallel to the strange town I had left behind. Along the way, I stumbled upon a patch of geysers—an unexpected blessing on what turned out to be the coldest night since Anthony and I first went on the run.

Eventually, I found a small hut with a hole in the roof, likely designed to vent smoke. If I lit a fire, it wouldn’t draw suspicion. Settling in, I burned the disposable plate, utensils, and paper cup to erase any trace of my presence.

At sunrise, I packed up and continued my journey. In the next town, I stopped at a gas station and purchased a few prepaid phones. The cashier eyed me strangely before commenting, “You never know when you’ll have cash again—at least this way, you can call a shelter if you need to.”

Little did they know, I wasn’t truly homeless.

From there, I found a quiet corner in the library to charge the phones. Once they were ready, I left. Three hours later, I finally made the call.

“Hi, Kay,” I said.

“Where the hell have you been?” she nearly screeched. “We’ve been looking for you forever!”

"I just saw my brother a few weeks ago!"

"No, you didn’t," she sighed. "That was three months ago. Your brother and I lost track of you until some guy you helped gave us a clue. By the time we got there, the whole town was packing up and moving out."

"Three months? Has it really been that long? How’s Anthony? Is he okay? Healthy?"

"Yes, my friend, it has," she said gently. "Anthony is fine—completely healthy. I took him to my niece’s pediatrician for a full check-up. The doctor was a little concerned because he was three pounds underweight, but I explained everything—losing his mother, the stress, the constant change. He’s doing much better now."

"I’m so relieved. Has he gained the weight back?"

"Yes, and then some!"

"That’s good to hear. This phone’s about to die—the battery’s old. I have another one I’ll call you on since I don’t know when I’ll get a chance to charge this one again."

"Sounds good. When will we see you?"

"As soon as I figure out where I am when I reach the next town, I’ll find the fastest—but safest—way to get to you."

"Ok. Be careful, my friend!"

"I will. Thank you for helping my brother take care of son."

The phone died shortly after I hung up.

It took me three days to reach a town. Thankfully, I didn’t get the same kind of "welcome" I had when I ran into that restaurant owner.

Along the way, I found a stream where I could clean up, wash my clothes, and change into the most threadbare outfit I had left—so worn that one wrong move and it would fall apart. After rinsing out my dirty clothes, I draped them over sunlit branches to dry and took the opportunity to rest while I waited.

"Excuse me? Are these your clothes?" a man’s voice startled me.

"Yes, they are," I replied, sitting up. "I’m sorry. I’m just passing through. My clothes should be dry now—I’ll gather them and move along."

"Not an issue," he said, stepping closer. "I recognized you. You helped get me out of prison. You never gave me your name."

I tensed, choosing my words carefully. "Did I? I haven’t done that kind of work in a long time."

"It was three years ago," he insisted. "Someone was trying to kidnap you—"

"I’m sorry, but I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else," I interrupted, keeping my tone gentle. "People say I have one of those faces." I forced a small smile. "I don’t recognize you, sir, but I should get my things and be on my way."

He studied me for a moment before nodding. "Alright."

I quickly gathered my things and left town, determined to reunite with Kay, my brother, and Anthony. Based on the distance, it would take me five to seven days on foot to reach my son. With help, I could make it in three to five. Crossing my fingers, I silently sent up prayers to every deity I could think of, pleading for a way to get there faster.

For two days, I walked tirelessly, covering over forty kilometers when a car pulled over. A woman stepped out, turning off the engine before approaching me.

"Excuse me, miss?" she called.

I eyed her warily. "How can I help you? I'm just trying to get to what's left of my family. I've spent the last three months making my way to them and the last few days walking nonstop."

"I’d like to give you a ride, as far as I can," she offered.

Relief flooded me. "That would be amazing, but fair warning—I haven’t bathed in days."

She smiled. "We’ll drive with the windows up until we find a place for you to shower."

For the next four hours, she drove while I slept in the backseat, using my bag as a pillow. When she stopped, she gently woke me, explaining that she had booked two hotel rooms. Grateful beyond words, I thanked her profusely.

After checking in, I immediately took a long, hot shower, scrubbing away the dirt and exhaustion of the past days. Then, I started washing my clothes in the bathtub. A knock on the door interrupted me. When I opened it, the woman stood there holding a small care bag.

"I figured you could use these," she said, handing it to me. Inside were soap, shampoo, vitamins, food bars, hand sanitizer, and packets of single-use laundry detergent.

"Thank you," I said, touched by her kindness.

She asked if I needed any help, but I assured her I was just going to rewash my clothes properly with the detergent and hang them to dry before getting some much-needed rest. She smiled. 

"No worries about housekeeping. They won’t come until we check out tomorrow." 

Then she left, and I locked the door behind her.

Letting my clothes soak, I headed to the nearest fast-food restaurant, ordering more food than I should have. I ate everything there before returning to my room. After draining the tub, I rinsed both the clothes and the tub, then refilled it with hot water and detergent for a second wash. This time, I scrubbed each item thoroughly before hanging them up in the open closet to dry.

Exhausted, I collapsed onto the bed and slept for twelve straight hours. When I woke, I dressed, packed my bag, and swept the room to make sure I hadn’t left anything behind. Satisfied, I took one last deep breath and prepared to move on. I left the room and knocked on her door but she didn't answer so I waited and knocked again. Still no answer so I went downstairs to reception.

I asked about the woman who rented the rooms we used. I was told that she was at the restaurant next door but hadn't checked out yet. I thanked the staff and then asked which way to get to the main roads. I thanked them again and headed on my way. 

Technically, I was four hours ahead of schedule but because I slept for so long, I was still on schedule. Ugh, it was going to take forever to get to my son but at least I slept. 

I walked eighteen hours that day. Thanks to that exhausting day, I was only six hours ahead. I found a quiet place in the woods and slept until dawn then got moving again. I decided that I'd walk longer days so I could make an attempt to get there faster.

A few times, a few people drove me as far as they could. I took that time to catch up on my much needed sleep. Before letting me go, they fed me and made sure that I had a small care bag. 

My last night, I was at a homeless shelter and had a room with another woman. We didn't talk much as we didn't have anything in common. The only time that we really talked is why I had so many cell phones and asked if I was selling anything illegal. I said that I wasn't selling anything illegal however, I use a phone until I run out of minutes but keep the phones in case I can get the money to purchase more minutes. Little did she know that I wasn't homeless and that I had money. I was trying to keep my profile low. She said that it made sense.

Once the phones were charged, I locked my stuff up in a locker and went to bed. 

In the morning, I gathered my things and signed out of the shelter. As I got closer to Kay’s office—just fifteen minutes away—I called her.

"Take as many detours as you can," she warned. "Head straight to the hospital—you know, the one you own, where Doc works."

Confused, I asked why.

"Vin, Vic, and C are in the elevator on their way up to my office right now," she said urgently.

Apparently, they had called her an hour ago, demanding to meet and question her about me. The moment she got off the phone with them, she had alerted security, explaining the situation. Security assured her they’d be in her office by the time the men arrived.

I barely had time to process her words before everything went black.

I had just stepped into my old office at the hospital when a sharp, searing pain tore through me. I collapsed, unconscious.

I drifted in and out, catching only brief flashes of what was happening. Tío stood over me, a gun in his hand. Doc's white lab coat was soaked in blood—my blood. His voice was frantic, pleading.

“Stay with me. Stay alive.”

"Doc?" I gasped.

"Yes, Lee?" he asked.

"I love you," I said.

"I love you too, Lee," he said. "Stay with me. I need you, darling."

I passed out.

Protecting family secrets

I was done with the constant shifting of my identity, worn out from hiding at every turn. This wasn’t the life I wanted for Anthony. He didn’t deserve this. The hardest part, though, was that my brother believed both Anthony and I were dead. But I couldn’t bring myself to tell him the truth. The first time I came back from the dead, he had a heart attack and was hospitalized. After that, I had Kay break the news gently that I was alive, but that my dangerous line of work had put me in constant peril.

Since then, I’d been sending him cryptic clues—pictures of the shoes he gave me when I was six, with subtle hints about my whereabouts. He knew he had ninety-six hours to find me, and every time, he came through without fail. But I wasn’t sure if I could ever tell him the full truth.

"Kay, make sure Tio knows he can NEVER tell my brother I’m alive. He can know, but he can’t say anything. You remember what happened the last time he found out. After the latest scare, I don’t think he could handle knowing Anthony and I are both alive. He can’t know. I don’t know how many more ‘funerals’ he can attend, and if he finds out, it puts him in danger, too. I may never see him again, and if I do, he might be too old or I’ll only see him at his funeral. With my luck, he might really have to attend my real funeral. Please, keep an eye on him," I texted Kay.

Kay’s reply was quick: “He knows. After the hearing and the mandatory change of his therapist, we sat down and talked about the letter—which, by the way, you should’ve sent to me first! I told him that under no circumstances should he contact your brother and tell him you’re alive. He knows he could face legal trouble, and the government is already investigating him. Before I left, I reminded him that he can reach out to your brother to send his sympathies, but that’s it!”

I felt a wave of relief. Kay had taken care of the crucial details. Unfortunately, this was just one of many hurdles I would face until I could find a safe place for Anthony and me to stay out of sight. I’d burned my bridges with both the real government and its splintered version. I couldn’t rely on them for help anymore. If I hadn’t burned those bridges, they would know exactly where to find me. So now, I had to turn to the criminals and the underworld that I’d spent my life fighting against.

Getting help from people I had sent to prison, people who now lived in hiding, was difficult. The ones who were released didn’t want to risk their freedom helping me, but when they saw I had Anthony with me, their attitude softened. Still, the help didn’t come easily. One person pointed me to the next, but none of them wanted to house Anthony and me for long. They didn’t want to look over their shoulders any longer than they had to—and I couldn’t blame them. To get their help, I had to return the favor.

Fortunately, most of what I could offer were things like baking, cooking, cleaning, and laundry. The more I did for them, the more they were willing to do for me. A few times, when the people helping me were low on funds after getting me the help I needed, I was able to give them untraceable cash in various currencies.

At one point, I found myself in a desperate situation. Anthony was in a baby carrier on my chest, and I had a heavy backpack strapped to my back. We were stranded in a dangerous area, with no tools to protect ourselves. My untraceable phone was dead—if it had been charged, I still wouldn’t have had service—and the only satellite phone I had was broken by a large animal. I couldn’t use my flare guns because I didn’t want to risk being found. As I was about to break down in tears, Anthony woke up, hungry. But I had run out of food, and my milk supply was dry. He cried in frustration.

The only thing I had left was electrolyte powder and half a bottle of water. I mixed a tiny bit of powder into the water and handed it to him. He drank it quickly, then tried to latch again.

“Where can I find a razor blade?” a familiar, raspy voice whispered.

“Take a turn at Neptune,” I said cautiously.

“It’s for a friend of a friend in need. She has a package weighing now twenty-one standard units,” the whisper responded.

“What’s your star sign?” I asked, grasping at any thread of familiarity.

“Aquarius, with moon rising and mercury in retrograde,” the voice replied.

A wave of relief washed over me.

“Come with me, Andrea,” the voice said. “It’s Donatello.”

“Holy shit, Donny! How did I not recognize your voice?” I gasped. “I’m so sorry I got you thrown in prison.”

“Andy, it’s alright, really,” he said. “Take my hand. I’ll get you and your baby someplace safe. I’ve got a kid of my own, and I have food your baby can eat.”

“I could hug you right now, but I don’t want to wake this kid up,” I said, taking his hand.

We walked for about fifteen minutes before we arrived at his home. It was the smallest house in the neighborhood, but Donny had made it look like a farming home to keep up appearances. I asked if his mistress knew I was coming, and he told me that she had spotted a tuft of my hair in the wind about thirty minutes before he found me and sent him out to track me down.

When we reached his door, Donny reminded me to take off my shoes but carry them inside, then burn them. I met his mistress, who fed both Anthony and me while Donny did his best to cover his tracks. I told him to stay inside, but he insisted on going out. I had a bad feeling, but he didn’t share my concern.

Hours later, after we were well-fed and hydrated, I heard scraping at the door. I knew something had gone wrong. I asked his wife to take the kids and hide, then grabbed the old rifle from above the kitchen sink. I opened the door to find Donny standing there, with a knife at his neck.

“No need to knock on your own front door, Donny,” I said, not acknowledging the man holding the knife. “Come on in. Don’t forget to take your shoes off. What would you like to drink, uncle?”

The armed stranger looked at me. “You’re his niece?”

“His family and mine have been friends for six or seven generations. It’s customary in his family to greet male elders as ‘uncle’ to show respect. Donatello is six years older than me,” I said, exaggerating a bit. “I also wanted our children to meet.”

"Alessia, could you please take the kids to the backyard?" I asked Donny’s mistress.

She nodded and led them outside. Once they were safely out of view, I turned my attention to Tomas, Ian Marlowe’s fraternal twin. I had no doubt he was armed—if he was anything like his brother. Donny wasn’t, but I didn’t trust the old gun in my hand to do what it needed to without risking my friend’s life.

“Tomas,” I said softly, approaching him with caution. “You’re here for me, not Donny.”

Slowly, I placed the gun on the ground, keeping my movements deliberate.

“Who are you?” Tomas growled, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “How do you know my brother?”

“I am The Legioness,” I purred, a cold smile curling at my lips. “I’ve been many things—Andrea, Dory, Tanya, Mary, Leeandria... you may know me as Astrid, Lilith, Raven, or Ursula.”

He froze.

 “She Devil!” Tomas yelped. “You’re the She Devil!”

“That I am," I said with a sly grin. "Now let Donatello go.”

I moved closer, my hand wrapping around his throat, feeling the anger rise. My vision tinted red. “You better do it soon, Tomas.”

“I’ve spent years looking for you… but now I know who you are!” Tomas choked out, struggling to breathe. “Let me go!”

“I’m not even choking you, you fool,” I hissed as my horns shot out from under my party hat—my favorite little trick. “Tell me, Tomas... Who am I?”

He squirmed, face pale. “You’re the devil incarnate who killed my brother!”

I gave a dark chuckle.

“That would be Alessia, not me,” I said, winking at Donny. “I’m the one who put your brother in prison.”

With that, Tomas released Donny, and the tension between us dissolved. Donny knew what was coming next. He and Alessia needed to take the kids and disappear—his priority was keeping them safe, especially my son. As much as I hated it, I cared more about Anthony’s safety than my own.

When Donny pulled me into a grateful hug, thanking me for saving his life, he asked where he should take everyone.

 “Find my brother. Text him a picture of where you are. He’ll come find you,” I whispered softly in his ear.

We pulled apart, and I quickly reminded him of the ballet shoes I had tucked in my bag for his daughter; they were really the shoes that my brother had given me years ago.

“Tell everyone to wear blue, so they blend in with the water.”

Tomas looked confused, but Donny understood immediately. He grabbed the ballet shoes from my bag and the baby wrap I had brought along, intended for Alessia to carry my son. Donny knew exactly which lake I meant—Tomas may have been unfamiliar, thinking of lakes still iced over, but Donny knew the one I meant.

It was time for everyone to disappear.

Before I could back up to my bag, Tomas leapt up from the floor from where he landed when I let go of his neck. We fell when he collided with me. As we struggled to try to get control, I reached into my boot to grab my taser. I truly hoped it still had a charge as I had to use it a few times prior to Donny finding Anthony and I. It took a few seconds to warm up but it worked when I pressed it against Tomas’s back and pressed the button. He convulsed for a few seconds before I released the button.

“Ugh!” Tomas groaned, disoriented. “What happened?”

“I tased you, Tomas,” I replied coolly, securing him with handcuffs to the banister of the stairs.

I quickly made my way to the backyard where Alessia had left her phone. Grabbing it, I typed out a message to Kay:

“I’m okay. Send someone to Donatello and Alessia’s. I need a 30-minute head start to pack my things and wipe down everything I’ve touched.”

“I’m giving you twenty minutes. Move fast!”

I double-checked that I had everything I’d brought with me. Now, I just had to find the lake where Donny and Alessia had taken Anthony and their child. I’d heard rumors about it, but I wasn’t sure if it was real. Asking around would only give away my location to the people who had tried to kill my ex-husband and me.

A text from Kay came through:
“This is your eighteen-minute warning. You need to leave, NOW!”

I wasn’t finished yet, but I had no choice but to go. I could hear people moving around both the front and back doors. I vaguely remembered that whatever house Donny lived in, he’d installed an escape hatch on the roof.

I sprinted upstairs, found the hatch, and opened it. I tossed my bag onto the roof and quickly used the rope ladder to climb up. Once on the roof, I pulled the ladder up and closed the hatch behind me. I jumped from the roof onto the neighbor’s house, using their rain spout to climb down.

Alessia’s phone pinged in my hand with a new message.

“Follow the street for three miles, turn right at the foot of the hill, and you’ll find your brother and your son. We love you!”

I followed the directions carefully, and at a small coffee shop, there they were—my brother and my son. I pulled them both into a tight hug before leading them down a hidden valley. At the end of it was the lake—still unfrozen, just as I had hoped. We found a boat waiting.

It had been a while since I had captained one, but I could handle it.

As we set off, my brother finally spoke. “I always knew you were alive. Every time you faked your death, Kay would send me clues, little hints that you were still out there.”

Fear and betrayal - the perspective of Tio

I don’t think I’ve ever been this scared in my life—not even when Lee was working for The Company. Should I have protected her more? Without a doubt. Did I? No. Why not? Because I was terrified that they’d tear us apart. And then there was the pregnancy… I know it was part of her undercover assignment. She was “forced” to sleep with several men, but it wasn’t rape—it was for gathering information. Was the pregnancy planned? No one really knows, or at least that’s what the former heads of The Company claimed. Lee won’t tell me, either. Honestly, I doubt it was intentional.

When Joe and the law enforcement officials took me down to the basement of The Company HQ, I thought I was going to faint. I’d heard the stories—torture, starvation, sleepless nights… a constant, suffocating silence, with nothing but surveillance until you either died or ended up in prison.

I had no idea what they were planning to do with me until we reached the basement. It had been converted into some kind of makeshift office, part therapy space, part psych ward. But it wasn’t the kind of psych ward you see in the movies. It was meant for former Company members, to put through a therapy program with people they trusted. What confused me was that I had never been part of The Company, yet everyone seemed to know exactly who I was.

They assigned me three psychotherapists: two men and a woman. One was there for the psych evaluation to be performed on me, another for diagnostics to see if I can be diagnosed with PTSD or something, and the last for treatment, whatever that meant. There were two others in the facility, but we were given a private office. I shared a few things that I knew, and everything I’d overheard while being near Lee during the whole nightmare.

But I was there for five weeks before I started talking in therapy. I talked about my purpose in Lee’s life, how I got some involved with The Office, but I shared everything that I knew  

“I went drinking with some of the people she worked with—both inside and outside The Company. Some were spies, some weren’t. Most of them wanted to bring down The Company, and back then, I didn’t understand why. But now, I get it. They played with people’s lives, manipulated hearts, and killed each other. I knew whoever had Lee imprisoned wanted her dead and would cover it up. They were trying to take over The Company and align with countries involved in crimes against humanity. I tried to pass this on to Lee, but she already knew it all before I could tell her.”

“We don’t believe you,” they said. “We have evidence—Lee has evidence—that you were involved somehow. You need to tell us everything you know! There isn’t much time, Tijuana!”

“There isn’t much time for what?” I asked, my mind racing. “Is her life at risk?”

“She’s six weeks pregnant,” they replied. 

“According to new laws, she has until the eighth week to get an abortion,” they insisted. “Do you know what scopolamine is?”

“Yes, I know,” I said. “I’ve heard of it, saw Lee use it when necessary, but I never used it myself.”

“We don’t believe you!” they snapped, showing me pictures and videos of me going through Lee’s hidden medical bags, pulling out the scopolamine.

In the footage, I could see myself injecting Lee with more than what was necessary, asking her questions, and gathering information. Then, I had made several calls.

“I don’t remember any of this!” I protested, shaking my head. “I want to say this isn’t me, but I know Lee—she’s got state-of-the-art security you guys don’t know about!”

“We believe you were programmed,” they said. “Ever seen the Jason Bourne movies? You were trained the same way. We just need the names of the people who did this to you!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” I kept insisting, my voice growing more frantic.

They escorted me back to my room and locked the door behind me. Because of whom I was married to, I had a private bathroom and a mini-fridge, so at least I didn’t have to worry about food or leaving the room.

Hours later, a new psychiatrist came to see me. He introduced himself, but I was so shaken that I couldn’t remember his name. We discussed using hypnosis and EMDR therapy to help me uncover what had happened.

Two weeks later, I received devastating news: Lee had gone through with the abortion and filed for divorce. Since I was considered competent, I was to sign the divorce papers without any hesitation. I wanted to stay married to Lee, to help her raise Anthony, and to be a father to him—but she needed to keep herself and Anthony safe. So, I signed, and the documents were sent back to Kay’s office. Two days later, I received a copy of the finalized decree. Lee had changed her and Anthony’s names, erased every trace of their old lives, and disappeared into hiding. Only Kay knew where they were, but since this was all handled through her office, it was covered by attorney-client privilege. Nothing could break that bond. If it did, Kay would face jail time for contempt. She was protecting them from me—and from anyone else still looking for them.

Days later, the new psychiatrist, the other three therapists, and a medical doctor who had treated Lee for her injuries from the job all came into my room. Along with them was the director of the quasi-psych hospital, and they had a plan. They wanted to administer scopolamine to me, to see what I truly knew. For hours, I resisted, unwilling to surrender, determined to protect Lee, Anthony, and most of all, myself. I wasn’t sure if there was something I was hiding from myself, but I couldn’t risk it. Finally, I signed the consent forms.

They took me through the tunnels to a hospital that was affiliated with them, placing me in a heavily guarded room. I ate, hydrated, and went to the restroom—under constant guard—before the injection. To ensure I wouldn’t fight back, they strapped down my arms and legs while they inserted the IV. Once they were sure I wouldn’t struggle, they unstrapped me.

“When did you meet Leandria?” they asked.

“Five and a half years ago.”

“Where?”

“At a bar.”

“Which one?”

“Quagmires, five blocks west by southwest of here.”

“Did you intend to meet her?”

“Yes.”

“Who insisted you meet her?”

“Three men—two Hispanic and an Italian.”

“Their names?”

“Vic, Vin, and C.”

“Last names?”

“I asked, but they never told me.”

“Did you report to them afterward?”

“I did. I told them I’d done what they asked: bought her drinks, charmed her, and got her into bed.”

“What did they say?”

“The strangest thing. They asked how she was in bed, and when I told them, they were all surprised. She wasn’t exactly relaxed with them. They said she was a bit of a freak.”

“That’s not what we meant. What did they say afterward? Did they want you to keep seeing her? Did they know you weren’t part of The Company?”

“Since Lee and I are divorced now, it’s clear they wanted me to see her again, but they never intended for us to get married. At one point, they all wanted to marry her, but for some reason, they never went through with it. I think it was because Vic was married, Vin was a cheater, and C had a girlfriend at the time, though he wasn’t happy with her. He wanted to be with Lee—whatever name she goes by now.”

“But did they know you weren’t part of The Company?”

“Yes, they knew. They wanted someone from outside The Company to spy on her, to make sure she was following the rules they set when they took over.”

“What rule was that? The cardinal rule?”

“That Lee had to marry someone outside The Company. Doc and Joe were already out of the picture. Once The Company broke apart, she could’ve married any of them if she wanted to, but she didn’t. She wanted to marry me. She thought I would protect her, not hurt her.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I hired Samantha and her brothers—Giacomo, Giovanni, and Giuseppe—he went by George for years, Jacques, and Marvin.”

“Why did you hire them?”

“I was supposed to scare her, but that didn’t work, so I hired them to kidnap her.”

“Why?”

“Once Lee realized The Company wasn’t a true part of the government, she wanted to tear it down. Samantha convinced me The Company was working with the government, and I believed it was a legitimate operation. But it wasn’t sanctioned by the government. It was just The Powers That Be running things.”

“Who are The Powers That Be?”

“Samantha is my ex-wife. She joined The Company and left me—someone who didn’t believe in any government—to raise our kids. She introduced me to her brothers, the black sheep of the family. No one ever mentioned the triplets, and now I see why. The kids were eventually put into foster care, adopted by families who could give them a better life than I could at the time. Samantha convinced me that she, her brothers, and their friends could help me get my kids back before they were adopted.”

“So, you’re saying The Powers That Be are Vin, Vic, and C?”

“Exactly.”

“You’re telling us that you got unintentionally involved in Lee’s kidnapping and possible death because three of her former lovers—now her former bosses—hired you to get her to fall for you, so they wouldn’t have to marry her because they didn’t think she was worthy of them? And in all of this, your first ex-wife convinced you to kidnap or kill your second ex-wife because she was trying to dismantle an unauthorized government system she was part of, even though she wasn’t a citizen of that country?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“Do you realize how absurd this sounds? It’s like you conspired to kidnap and possibly kill an innocent woman who ended up marrying a liar because she thought she was doing the right thing by trying to bring down a fake government department—all because you were about to lose your kids?”

“Do you know what it feels like to lose your kids? I never wanted Lee hurt or killed. I just wanted to stop her, to some extent, but she kept getting seriously hurt. I tried to call it off, but they wouldn’t listen. They gave me back all the money I’d paid, and I donated it to charity because I didn’t want to be tied to the money that could’ve ended up killing the only woman I ever loved.”

“We know,” they said in unison.

“My children are Jacques and Marvin,” said the new psychiatrist.

“Samantha, Giacomo, Giovanni, and Giuseppe are ours,” said the one male psychotherapist and female psychotherapist.

“I am their uncle,” said the remaining psychotherapist. “I never married, nor had any children.”

I stopped talking, exhausted. I fell asleep, praying they wouldn’t pull this again when I woke up. If they truly believed I could’ve been involved in having Lee—the love of my life—kidnapped or killed, then I’d end up right alongside my former conspirators in prison.

What felt like years later, the psychologist and psychotherapists woke me up. I ate, showered, got dressed, brushed my teeth and hair, then met them in the day room.

“We don’t know what to make of what you told us three days ago,” they said. “We spoke with the legal representatives of everyone you hired. There was some confusion about who hired whom. Sam—sorry, she prefers to go by Samantha—said that she hired you the day you married, that she put money in a private account in your name, and that you knew about it. She claims that’s the money you used to hire her, her brothers, and their cousins. You gave us a different story. We don’t know who to believe.”

“I’m sure you want me to pack up my things and end up in the same prison as my ex-wife and her insane family—well, the ones still in her life, at least. But that’s not happening. I have the right to request a different facility, but ultimately, it’ll be up to a judge to decide.”

“We took longer than expected because we administered a bit more scopolamine than usual. You stayed in the hospital for forty-eight hours under observation, but you were fine. You slept through most of it, both there and the last twenty-four hours here. We had you hooked up to IV fluids and a feeding tube to make sure you didn’t get dehydrated or go hungry. During those seventy-two hours, we sent the videos and recordings to Kay, who then forwarded them to Lee. She replied to Kay, and here’s the bottom line: Lee doesn’t believe you were as uninvolved as you claim. She requested that, on her behalf, several federal agencies interview you later today to figure out just how much you were involved in the kidnapping and murder plot against your most recent ex-wife. Through Kay, Lee made it clear that she wants nothing more to do with you. She believes she’s too close to the situation to make a fair judgment and thinks the federal agencies, who have no connection to any of us, you, or her, will be able to do a better job.”

“Who will be there as my legal representatives? Will you guys be there to confirm my competency?”

“We’re not sure. Our legal department is handling your representation. One of us will be there with you, but the decision will be made by legal. We don’t know if it’ll be one of us four who’ve been taking care of you, or if it’ll be someone else who’s familiar with the case but not as closely involved.”

“Do I need to wear a suit? Should I pack anything? Write any letters?”

“You’re fine the way you are. We’ve been told this interview should last no longer than two hours. The last thing we want to do is give you this letter from Lee. She sent it to us directly, and Kay knows most of its contents, though she wasn’t thrilled it didn’t go through her first. We want you to read it before we send it to the interviewers.”

I nodded, my hands shaking as I opened the envelope:

My dearest Tio,

I’m sure you’ve heard by now that I decided to have the abortion. I couldn’t bring another child into this world without its father. I was able to get early genetic testing, and the pregnancy was barely viable—the child would have faced severe struggles growing up. One day, I may share the details with you, but I can’t right now.

As for the divorce? I knew you were somehow involved in the plots my kidnapping and eventual death. I trusted you to always find me, to protect me—not harm or kill me, whether by your hand or someone else’s. I understand you wanted to get your children back, but there were other ways—legal ways. You didn’t need to lie to me. I knew the truth the whole time.

The former Powers That Be wanted you to protect me from them. Vic would never leave his wife for me. Vin, with his jealousy and history of violence toward me, and C—like Vic—wouldn’t leave his girlfriend for me. In the end, I was never worthy of them, and honestly? That’s fine with me.

I fell in love with you, Tijuana. You helped me heal from them, but in the end, you betrayed me. You promised me you’d never reach out to Sam or her family, but you did. Over and over again. You broke my trust. You shattered my faith. Your desire to get your children back from their new families—and your reluctance to start a new one with me until recently—led to even more people chasing after my son and I. Yet, I am still in love with you.

I’m no longer Leeandria, and my son is no longer Anthony. I’ve changed our identities. I’ve changed mine so many times that I don’t even know who I am anymore. I’ve forgotten my native language, most of my family, my favorite foods, my music. But now? The only person knew who I was during all of this was my brother. As you read this, he’s being told that both Anthony and I died in a house fire, killed by smoke inhalation.

This will be hard for him to believe. He knows how much of a light sleeper I am, how alert I’ve become since having Anthony, and that I’ve taken precautions—smoke alarms, carbon monoxide detectors, and fire extinguishers throughout the house. It’ll seem convincing, though. There will be bodies found that resemble Anthony and me. The bodies will be so charred that dental records won’t work, but the fire investigator, the medical examiner, the pathologist, and everyone else involved have been bribed. They’ll confirm our deaths. Because of you, my brother will now believe that I’m dead. He won’t take this well. I’ll never see him again, maybe in many years when he’s senile or at his funeral depending on who dies first.

Kay told him you’re being evaluated, so if you tell him that Anthony and I are alive, he’ll think you’ve completely lost your mind.

After today, if you’re free from this bizarre mental hospital or from prison, don’t look for me. Once you’re out, Kay and government agencies will be watching you. If you ever type our names—Anthony’s or mine—expect a visit from government officials. Don’t say my name unless you are asked. The only time you should mention it is if they ask about our divorce and my death in the fire. My death has to be believed.

Goodbye, Tio.
Sincerely,
Leeandria and Anthony”

I stared at the letter, trying to wrap my mind around what I had just read. It was like a punch to the gut.

“Do you know the contents of this letter?” I asked.

They told me they knew about the contents of the letter, but they had signed an NDA with Kay, preventing them from disclosing any information—past or present—regarding Lee and Anthony. No judge could break that NDA. They helped prepare me as best they could for the interview, and when it was time, the legal team came down to speak with us.

“Tio, since the death of Leeandria and her son, Anthony, I’m pleased to announce that Kay is now free to represent you as your attorney, should you ever need one,” the legal assistant declared proudly, unaware that my ex-wife was still alive. “She told me in the past that Lee spoke so highly of you, and Kay felt it would be a good way to honor her legacy by offering her services to you now.”

“Thank you, Kay,” I replied sincerely. “Will I have a mental health representative with me during this interview?”

“Unfortunately, no,” the legal assistant said. “However, your therapists and psychologist have signed affidavits confirming that they believe you are competent for this interview. They found no mental health concerns other than exhaustion from dealing with the wrong people and the death of your wife.”

“Thank you,” I muttered, then turned to Kay. “Is there a place we can talk privately?”

“Yes, follow me,” she said, guiding me to her car.

Once inside, she mentioned she was recording the conversation to send to me later. I asked if she could tell me where Lee had gone, but she advised me to drop the subject due to attorney-client privilege. She explained she couldn’t share anything I discussed with her with Lee. We spent the next twenty-five minutes preparing for the interview.

“It’s going to be tougher than what you experienced in the hospital with the scopolamine, okay?” she said. “The doctors were looking for truthful answers, and that’s what they got—up to a point. The federal agencies are going to want more detailed information, like how you met Sam, her family, and your involvement with them.”

I nodded, feeling my hands sweat and my stomach churn. We left her car and headed to the legal office for the interview. And let me tell you, it was more intense than Kay had prepared me for. They asked me the same questions over and over, trying to catch me in a lie or see if I would change my story. But I didn’t.

They showed me financial statements spanning the last fifteen to twenty years, records from my phone and computer, and even any rude comments I’d made to others. They dug into my work behavior and past write-ups. By the time they moved on to my mental health, Kay had provided the affidavits from my psychologist and therapists.

When the agencies finally finished with Kay and me, I felt worse than when I’d lost my children to the foster care system. Kay led me to the day room where my therapists were waiting. They all sighed heavily.

“Tio pretty much told them the same thing he told us,” Kay said. “He explained how he met Sam, her family, and how he got involved with everything. The agencies can’t touch Vin, Vic, or C—they were all working for those agencies and were just following orders from their higher-ups. But those higher-ups have already been named and are in prison.”

“What?” the psychologist asked, clearly shocked. “Who are the bosses now in prison?”

“Sam, Giacomo, Giovanni, Giuseppe, Jacques, and Marvin,” I said, still processing it all. “The six of them were involved in breaking off from the actual government. They wanted to do the things the government wouldn’t, like making deals with terrorists and reporting everything. They no longer had anyone to answer to, so when they became The Company, they were free to operate however they wanted.”

“Go on,” the therapist encouraged.

“After the breakaway, they could act with minimal repercussions. That’s how Vin, Vic, and C got me involved. They wanted me to protect Lee, but they didn’t realize that Sam was my ex-wife. She’d changed her name back to her maiden name, and I was still in love with her. My mission was to make Lee fall in love with me. I used the money Sam had given me for our wedding to hire her and her family to kidnap Lee. But when they found out I was going to ask Lee to marry me, they pushed things further. I tried to stop them, but they didn’t listen. They returned the money which I didn’t want. When Lee and I married, I thought it would protect her, but instead, she was pulled further into The Company’s grip. Vin, Vic, and C used their power to reclaim control over the organization. None of us were focused on what was best for Lee—we were all acting separately, trying to protect her in our own ways, and look where it got us. Lee and Anthony are hiding now, her brother thinks they’re dead, and it’s my fault. And now here I am, stuck in a mental hospital, just wanting to get out.”

“So where does that leave you, Tio?” one of my therapists asked.

“Well, I’m stuck here for another three months, getting treatment for everything, and officially deprogramming myself from all the inter-governmental work. I’ve got PTSD and need to go on antidepressants for a while. I won’t be able to work in any government job, here or abroad, but at least I’ll keep my benefits.”

“That’s good, Tio,” another therapist said. “At least you’re getting the treatment you need.”

“The downside is that because your former family, none of you can continue treating me. It’s considered unethical. The interview panel said none of you can work here while I’m a patient. They’re sending you all to another country until three weeks after my discharge.”

“Got it,” they said. “We already figured as much. We’ve passed everything on to our colleagues, handed in our phones and computers, and left our offices as is. We’ve left the keys with the department head. Anything else, Tio?”

“Yes,” I stammered. “I don’t want to see any of you again. Nor do I want to hear from any of you. Once you leave, new locks will be installed in your offices with higher security. All recording devices will be destroyed. You four will have permanent restraining orders against you. If any of you come within 600 miles of me, you’ll be arrested and sent straight to prison with your kids. You won’t be visitors, you’ll be inmates. You were all part of the plan to kidnap and murder my one true love… Lee.”

The therapists left immediately, knowing that if they didn’t leave right then, they’d be arrested. I had no issue with them anymore. I just needed to move on with my life and learn to live without Lee by my side. I am going to miss her terribly but I know that she and Anthony are somewhere out there alive and safe. 

Troubling times

Tio and I spent the next few days in bed to get pregnant with his child; Anthony’s father is known only to me but Doc, Joe and Tio are not the father of Anthony; it was Ian Marlowe…my former partner. During the breaks that we took, I breastfed Anthony, fed him solid food, we played with his toys and Tio and I talked about Tio adopting him. I told Tio that it would be wonderful for Anthony to have a father – both in the house and on his birth certificate.

When Tio and I went back to bed to continue our sexual adventures, Ant went back to Anna and the nanny. I could hear both Anna and the nanny tell Ant that both Mommy and Daddy are heroes. I smiled at that as Tio and I headed back to our bedroom. Thankfully, the bedroom was far enough away that no one could hear us moan and scream but still, thankfully, close enough in case there was an emergency

Tio and I spent seven glorious days in our bedroom making love. I enjoyed getting his thick seed filling my hungry cervix and as time went on, my tight apex got stretched and swollen from Tio’s unusually large and pierced penis. I still moaned, groaned and screamed in pleasure with each thrust of his penis.

I didn’t tell Tio, but I knew that by the third day, he had gotten me pregnant. I loved our time in bed together and didn’t want him to stop…and to some extent, I enjoyed the pain that his sturdy stallion of a penis caused as it’s too large for me.

When we were finally spent, we fell asleep in each other’s arms; his penis was still inside of me, pulsating and still pouring the last of his seed in me. We slept for several hours before we were woken up by knocking on the door.

“Lee? It’s Anna. Anthony wants to be breastfed,” Anna shyly said. “Can I bring him in?”

“Sure, just give us a second,” I said as Tio and I giggled as he pulled his penis out of me and we covered ourselves up. “Come on in!”

Anna brought Anthony into the room and straight to me as she couldn’t look at Tio without blushing. I reminded her that he’s my husband and that Doc is single. She reddened and then nodded. I told her that if there was one more act like this, she would have to find employment elsewhere – preferably where there were only women. She nodded her head and said “Yes, ma’am!” before leaving the room.

As Anthony was breastfeeding from my right breast, Tio was hopeful that Anthony wouldn’t empty both of my full breasts. I told Tio that at eleven months old, Anthony sometimes does but there are ways to help with increasing the milk supply. Tio raised his eyes. I said that I can breastfeed Ant more and if he doesn’t want to, I can pump more. These would stimulate the necessity as would more sex.

“Babe, pump and breastfeed the both of us as much as possible,” Tio said as he was massaging my left breast. “Your sweet apex needs a break for a bit. Consider all the fun we had…that might help significantly with this production.”

“Maybe,” I moaned as Tio latched on to my left breast. “You’ll have to get behind two children if we were successful this week.”

“Trust me, we were successful,” he garbled as my nipple was in his mouth. "There’s nothing wrong with formula either!”

“True,” I said. “I’ll be back. He’s done and he needs a diaper change before he goes down for a nap.”

“I’ll help you out, babe,” he said. “I need to learn how to take care of our son.”

I smiled and he took Ant from my arms so I could get up. I threw a robe on, took Ant from him so he could put on his boxer briefs. I burped Ant and then we all went to the nursery together. I pointed to Tio where Ant’s pjs were as I laid Ant down on his changing table. I took off his sweats and his onesie. I quickly changed his diaper and was ready for the new pjs.

“Thanks, babe,” I said as I kissed him.

I dressed him and set him softly in his crib. I hit the button for the night nanny to come up to the nursery. On our way back to our room, I texted security to ramp up security for the next 72 hours. I had the feeling that Ant wasn’t safe and beginning to think that he might be safer at Doc’s for a bit. I didn’t want to be separated by him for more than 12 hours but this might indefinitely until I find the source of the uneasiness feeling.

“What’s the matter?” he asked. “Is everything ok?”

“I don’t know, Tio,” I asked. “Why so interested in adopting Ant and getting involved with his routine?”

“What is this? The inquisition?”

“Tio, Ant’s not your kid and yet you never wanted to be involved until now. You had kids with your ex-wife. You know what to do,” I said.

“I want to know who Ant’s father is,” he replied. "And his mother.”

“I am certainly his mother but I don’t know who the father is. I don’t want to get the men in prison involved in my life again or the threats against Ant become worse and they come after him and I,” I partially lied to Tío…I certainly knew who was the father of my precious son  

“What are you going to do?”

“I am going to do two things,” I said. “First thing is sending you away. You are going for therapy and you’re also going to talk with the government to get deprogrammed. The second thing is that I am going to send Ant away for protection. I don’t know what it is you know or what you’re trying to do with my son but at the end of the day, I will choose him.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said.

“Yes, you do. Stop gaslighting. You were supposed to marry me to gain information from me but somewhere between the wedding and a year ago, you fell in love with me. However, when Ant was born, you changed. You wanted to separate him and I. I have nothing to share about who his father is. I have no desire for a DNA test, and I do not trust you alone with him nor do I trust you with him with other people with you. I feel like you’re going to do something to him, and I won’t stand for it.”

“What?”

“Joe? Come on in,” I said. “And by the way, I knew that you got me pregnant three days ago. I want you to be in this child’s life. If you don’t do what you need to do in therapy, this pregnancy will end. Ant and I will disappear. Doc, Joe, my brother – everyone that knows me – will not know where Ant and I have gone. Our identities will have changed and we will go where we’ve never gone to before.”

“Lee?”

“My name isn’t Leeandria,” I said. “It never has been.”

“What?”

“Tio, I love you,” I said. “I truly do. Get the help you need. Get deprogrammed. The consequences? A divorce, an abortion and both Ant and I disappear.”

“I haven’t done anything!”

“The last few months, I have gathered enough evidence against you but I never wanted to believe it because I love you and also because you are my husband. If you ever loved me, make me trust you again.”

“But I haven’t done anything!!”

I nodded to Joe. He and a few trusted local law enforcement agencies stepped in, arrested Tio and took him away. I knew that they would take him to the scariest place I knew. 

The former headquarters of The Company.

Recovery and time with the husband

My two guest rooms were set up with two beds each and the main bedroom had two air mattresses on the floor. The nurses that were not on overnight duty had one room and the nurses that had overnight duty had the other room. The air mattresses in the main bedroom were for the overnight duty nurses so they could be close to monitor us through the night. Both sets of nurses would alternate nights and days so they all could get their breaks and get their required sleep; required by law and by me.

The headaches that Tío and I had were awful. All we could do to treat the pain was Tylenol, rest and hydration. Doc and Joe arranged to visit us and gave all four nurses a few hours off for rest. We were well fed and hydrated. Anna and the nanny were taking care of Anthony. Since I was taking medication (Tylenol), I couldn’t breastfeed so Joe went out to buy formula to supplement the food that Anthony was eating. I’d left the pumps at Doc’s, Tío - in private - had been sucking and squeezing my breasts to relieve my full and aching breasts. To return the favor, I stroked his had penis so he could climax until he was empty.

After a week, we went back to the hospital for follow up MRIs and a follow up physical. The concussions were still there but improved and the bruising, cuts, scrapes and burst ear drums were on the mend. The doctors told us that the nurses at my place can go but they’ll check on us in the morning and again at night. Tío and I went home to go to bed for a bit.

Doc, Joe and the rest of the guys were looking into who blew up my new car. There were a few leads but they didn’t pan out. Our security was pared down but we still had a few guys take shifts around the clock. 

When things settled down more, Tío carried me off to our room and put me on our bed. He joined me on the bed and began to kiss me. Our clothes came off, I was on my back with my legs spread when he was about to slide his penis in me.

“Do you want me?” he asked he placed the tip of his penis in my apex. “I want you!”

“I want and need you all the time,” I moaned as I wrapped my legs around him and brought him closer to me; causing his penis to completely enter me. I gasped in pleasure. “There’s two things you need to know, babe.”

“What’s that?” he grunted as he began to pick up his pace.

“The tubal ligation never really happened, it was a smoke screen,” I moaned as I bit his neck.

“What’s the other thing?” he groaned in rapture. 

“I’m ovulating today and will be the next four to six days,” I said. “I want you to fill me every chance you can.”

“My pleasure,” he said as he began to thrust deeper inside of me. “My god, babe. When we're spent after this, everyone is being kicked out, we're barricading the doors, eating and drinking and then we're getting back to baby making work."

"Don't stop, baby," I gasped as I climaxed. 

"I won't stop," he garbled as he suckled from my breasts when he climaxed. “I’m going to make sure that you’re pregnant by the end of the week!”

We spent the next few days in bed enjoying each other. 

Emergency escape plan

My head was pounding, my vision spinning, the pressure in my ears almost unbearable as I felt the unmistakable sensation of my eardrums tearing. Blood trickled down my face, seeping from my ears. I searched for Tio, but he was nowhere to be found.

The pain was overwhelming, suffocating. My body felt like it was giving out, desperate for rest. If I could just close my eyes for a moment, maybe I could sleep. My husband would find me, just like he always did. Tio would come.

"Lee? Wake up for me, kiddo," Doc's voice reached me, faint and distant. "I know you’re tired, but you can’t sleep right now. Keep your eyes open and talk to me. Stay still, sweetie... we can’t move you yet."

"Tio?" I whispered, struggling to speak. "Where’s my husband?"

"We’re looking for him, Lee," Doc replied, his voice steady even amid the chaos. "We saw him thrown through the air, but we don’t know where he landed. Hey, Joe! Spread out!"

"Got it, boss!" Joe’s sharp voice responded.

The blare of sirens, ambulances, and police cars filled the air, almost unbearable against the pounding in my head, even with the cotton Doc had gently placed in my ears.

"Easy, man," Doc muttered as the paramedics carefully slid a neck brace around my neck and strapped me to a backboard. "I’m Dr. McDoc... get her to my hospital. Or hers... whatever, just get her to the one I work at!"

"Yes, sir," the paramedics replied in unison as they closed the back of the ambulance.

"Tio?" I croaked again, my vision fading.

"Your uncle?" the first paramedic asked, his tone almost mocking.

"No," I rasped. "His name is Tijuana, but he goes by Tio. Do you know where he is?"

"We were just told to get you, ma’am," the second paramedic explained. "There’s another team out looking for him. They'll bring him once they find him."

"No," I said, panic creeping into my voice. "We’re waiting for my husband. Get me off this bus!"

The paramedics exchanged uneasy glances, but I didn’t care. My hands were shaking as I quickly began texting Doc.

"Something’s off," I typed, struggling to keep my phone steady. "They won’t let me go, and they’re acting strange. I don’t trust them or the other team. Get me out of here, and send them away. Call someone you trust to come get me and Tio!"

Seconds later, Doc opened the ambulance doors, sliding the gurney out. With Joe’s help, they gently lowered me to the ground, still strapped to the backboard. Doc stayed calm, but I could feel his tension. He had Joe stay with me while he made a few calls, arranging for a trusted ambulance crew from his hospital.

"Doc?" I croaked, barely conscious. "Has anyone seen Tio?"

"Joe? Is she okay enough for you to help us search for him?" Doc asked, hanging up the phone.

"Yeah, Anna’s on her way, and Anthony’s with the chef in the kitchen," Joe replied, squeezing my hand. "Lee, you’re going to be alright. I know you want to see Ant, but he’s too young to see you like this."

"Find my husband," I said, my eyes heavy with exhaustion.

Joe nodded and went to join the search.

I drifted in and out of consciousness as they looked for Tio. Anna tried to keep me awake, but she was a pediatric nurse, and there was only so much she could do. Doc gently woke me again, telling me they had found him. Tio was unconscious, lying near the tree line, not far from where I had been. They assured me we’d ride in the same ambulance together.

The ride to the hospital was quick, and we were seen immediately. Both of us had concussions, but thankfully, that was the extent of our injuries. Once we were cleared to leave, I turned to Tio, still groggy, and asked what he wanted to do next.

"So, what do you want to do when we get back to my place?" I asked, my voice slow and thick with exhaustion.

"Mind if I’m honest?" he asked, his voice low but serious.

"Go ahead," I said, offering him a tired smile.

"I want Doc and Joe out of our lives for the next three months," he said, his expression more serious than I’d ever seen it. "Just some time for you and me. We haven’t had time alone together in a while."

"I’m on board with that, but can we wait a week or so?" I asked. "I’m sure Doc will want to check in on both of us, and Joe will want to stick around for a few days."

"They have ten days, and then they give us space for ninety days," he said, a mischievous gleam in his eye. "If we need them for medical or security, we can call or text, but we need to discuss it first. Fair?"

"Yeah, that works," I said, my eyelids heavy. "Let’s send them both an email after a nap. Anna’s got some trauma nurse friends waiting for us back at the house. Four of them will be there. Joe and the guys vetted them, even though Anna vouched for them. They’ll stay with us for a few days and split shifts. They’ll check on us a few times a night to make sure we’re still breathing and that..."

"Ugh," Tio groaned. "I just want to be with you, but I get it. You want to make sure we don’t have any issues while we sleep or get hit with headaches."

"I know, babe," I said. "I’m not a great patient, and neither are you. How bad’s your concussion?"

"Grade two," he said, his eyes full of concern. "What about you?"

"Same," I said. "Can’t wait to shower and get some rest."

"Let’s go," he said, squeezing my hand tightly. "I can’t wait to have you to myself. Well, mostly to myself for ten days!"