Three weeks passed without word from Katya.
Adam spent them at the garage, teaching, fixing, waiting. Every morning he expected a call, a text, a threat. Nothing came. The silence was louder than any gunshot.
Marcus called every day.
“Can I come home yet?”
“Not yet. Give it one more week.”
“You said that last week.”
“I meant it last week too.”
The boy sighed. “I'm going crazy here. There's nothing to do.”
“There's school. Your mother. The woods.”
“The woods are boring.”
“Then read a book.”
“Books are boring too.”
Adam almost smiled. “Then be bored. It's better than being dead.”
---
Sandra walked into the office, a cup of coffee in her hand.
“Marcus?”
“He's restless. Wants to come back.”
“Is it safe?”
“I don't know. But I can't keep him in a cage forever.”
“Then bring him
