Page 44 of Stolen Hearts

Her office smelled faintly of lavender and eucalyptus, the scent she always used to calm patients. She took a deep breath, smiling to herself as she spotted something new on the desk.

A bouquet of flowers. Rich blooms in deep pinks, reds, and purples. Roses, lilies, something wild and thorned.

Her heart stuttered.

Setting Navy on her playmat, she crossed to the desk, fingers trembling slightly as she picked up the small white envelope tucked between the stems.

No return address. Just her name.

She slipped the card free.

Happy Birthday, Rhae. You look so beautiful when you smile. I miss seeing it in person. Soon. —RR

Her knees buckled.

She hit the chair hard, her fingers numb around the card.

Her mind spun. Robert. He was somewhere out there—watching. Of course, he knew her birthday. He had control of all her finances.

But now…he knew where she worked. Where shelived.

Her body felt cold despite the warm sunlight trickling through the window.

He’d found her.

Everything Denver said earlier about having it “handled” evaporated like mist.

Panic beat a war drum in her chest. She had to go. She couldn’t risk it.

She stood and moved fast—sweeping Navy off the floor, rushing out the door, across the hallway, and down to her quarters. She shut the door behind her and locked it before hurrying to the bedroom.

She set Navy down on the floor and then flattened herself on the floor, reaching her arm under the bed for her suitcase. Yanking it free, she pushed into a sitting position, hair trailing in her eye.

The small suitcase she kept packed with essentials stared back at her.

Denver would call it a go-bag.

She’d hoped she would never need it.

She started pulling things from drawers—Navy’s onesies, the baby monitor, her beloved stuffed lion with the ratty tail.

The prescription bottle for the anti-anxiety meds she hadn’t touched in months.

No time to think. No time to call Denver. No time tobreathe.

She’d have to be gone by sundown.

Because everythingwas not handled.

* * * * *

Denver tapped twice on the door before pushing it open. “Hey, birthday girl—ready for dinner?”

He stepped into the room, expecting to see Rhae zipping up her boots or brushing her hair, and Navy sitting on the floor, playing with her toys.

Instead, he froze at the sight before him.

A suitcase. A duffel bag. Both packed to the seams.

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