The Note Under the Table
I remember thinking, with a clarity that frightened me, that if it came to it I would put my body between my son and that man and buy him whatever seconds I could.
It did not come to that.
Dario, for all his planning, had built his life around never having to chase anyone — his method was patience and poison and a good bedside manner, not pursuit down a black road — and by the time he thought to follow, we were gone.
We ran until the lights of the main highway showed ahead, and I flagged down a passing cab with both arms.
Only when the doors shut and we pulled away did Kai reach into his backpack and lift out something wrapped carefully in paper towels.