Mia woke to the sound of her phone vibrating.
The room was still dark, the heavy curtains blocking out most of the early morning light. For a moment, she lay perfectly still, her body heavy with sleep, her mind struggling to make sense of the sound. The phone vibrated again, insistent and sharp against the polished surface of the bedside table.
Still half asleep, she reached for it.
The number on the screen was unfamiliar. Not a contact, not a saved number, just a string of digits that meant nothing to her. She squinted at the bright screen, her eyes adjusting slowly.
She opened the message.
Leave the Blackwoods before your baby is born.
Mia stared at it.
The words were simple, almost clinical in their directness. No threats of violence, no demands for money, no explanation. Just a
