The night air was thick with tension as we rushed through the back door. Every step felt like a race against time, the weight of my mother’s wheelchair slowing us down. My heart pounded in my chest, my hands trembling as I pushed her forward.
William glanced back, his jaw clenched. “They’re coming.”
Aunt Marie led the way, her breath uneven as she whispered, “This way!”
We slipped into the shadows of the alley behind the house, the cold pavement damp beneath our feet. My mother’s fingers clutched the armrests of her wheelchair, her eyes darting wildly. She was terrified. So was I.
A car screeched to a halt near the front of the house. Doors slammed. Heavy footsteps followed.
Bernard’s men.
William gripped my arm. “We need to split up.”
I whipped my head toward him. “What?”
“They’ll
