He didn’t look at me, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

“I know,” he said, reaching down to press a button on his dashboard console.

“I’m already tracking her signal.”

A small digital map appeared on the screen, a red dot blinking steadily near the edge of the city.

“We have forty minutes,” he said.

The first drops of rain began to hit the windshield.

They smeared against the glass, blurring the grey world outside.

I stared at the blinking red dot, praying we would make it in time.

The truck accelerated, throwing me back against the seat as we hit the open highway.

The city lights faded behind us, replaced by the dark, dense trees of the outer suburbs.

I held my breath, watching the distance close.

Every second felt like an eternity.

My hands were cold, but my mind was completely clear.

I would do whatever it took to save my son.

Even if it meant walking directly into Patricia’s trap.

The truck rounded a sharp curve, the headlights cutting through the growing darkness.

Up ahead, the faint glow of the lake house appeared through the trees.