The Bitter Truth Behind My False Infertility and the Family I Lost
Beside her name, a text alert popped up from an executive at my firm.
“The board is holding an emergency meeting in thirty minutes. You need to be on the call.”
I stared at the screen as we sped toward the highway.
The headlights of a car behind us turned on, following us at a distance.
The nightmare was just beginning.
I ignored the ringing dashboard and kept my eyes on the dark, wet highway.
The headlights behind us remained at a steady distance.
“Adrian, your phone,” Maren said, her voice tight.
“I see it,” I said.
In the rearview mirror, I saw Noah and Lila clinging to each other in the back seat.
Their pale faces were illuminated by the passing streetlights.
“Are those people chasing us?” Noah asked.
“No, buddy,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. “Just some loud reporters. We’re going to a quiet place.”
I pressed the button on the steering wheel to decline Celeste’s call.
Immediately, another text from my managing director popped up.
*The state police just visited the firm’s offices looking for Eleanor’s personal files. Adrian, call me.*