Chapter 2: Don't
He said one word.
"Don't."
His voice was barely a whisper.
Rough, like something that had been locked away too long.
My heart stopped.
I looked down at him.
His whole body was shaking.
His knuckles were white around my wrist.
"Noah," I said quietly.
"It's okay.
I promise."
He shook his head.
Hard.
Fast.
The knock came again.
Louder this time.
"Open up.
I know he's in there."
A man's voice.
Low.
Certain.
Noah made a sound I'd never heard from him before — not a word, just a sound — and pressed himself against my side.
I didn't open the door.
"Who are you?" I called out.
A pause.
Then: "I'm his father."
The room went cold.
I looked at Noah.
His face had gone completely white.
The caseworker had told me Noah had no living relatives.
No father on record.
No next of kin.
That's why fourteen families could even consider him.
So who was this man?
And why was Noah more afraid in that moment than I had ever seen any child be?
I reached for my phone with my free hand.
That's when the man outside said something else.
Something that made my bl00d run cold.
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What this man said next — and what Noah did after — will break your heart and shock you.
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