David
I felt her trembling beneath my grip, the heat of her skin burning against my palms, but I didn’t let go. Not yet. My pulse thundered in my ears, drowning out the muffled cries of the children and the frantic whispers of Mrs. Abigail.
Laura’s voice was hoarse when she spoke, barely more than a breath between us. “How did you know?”
I smirked, though there was nothing amused about it. Slowly, I reached into her pocket and pulled out the tiny microphone and GPS tracker, pinching it between my fingers before holding it up to her.
Her face paled.
“Do you really think you can escape me?” My voice was low, dangerous. “I know every move you make. Every breath you take. My father may think he’s clever, handing you his phone in secret, arranging his little schemes behind my back, but he
