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This is terrible.
Lincoln and I are at Ethan’s mercy. Now, he’s got some souped-up ambulance tooling across LaGuardia, ready to take us away so he can drain our angelic energy. Only in my case, he’ll do that after the baby is born so he can ruin our son’s life too.
What a disaster.
The ambulance careens across the tarmac. Something about the way it zigzags seems way too familiar. Squinting, I try to make out the driver. It’s a Razor Guard, but some blonde curls peep out from under the Nazi-style cap.
Could that be?
The ambulance clips the back fender of a Humvee. I’ve seen that move before. No question about it. That’s definitely Cissy behind the wheel. She’s always been a crappy driver.
The ambulance pulls up beside us. The back door pops open, and someone else who looks like a
