The Merritt Parkway was slick with rain, the gray sky pressing down on the trees.

My hands were clenched in my lap, my knuckles white.

“Nora is tracking her phone,” Richard said, his glance shifting to the dashboard navigation screen.

A small blue light showed our location, while a red light flickered several miles ahead of us.

“She’s moving fast,” I noted, my throat dry.

“She’s desperate,” Richard replied. “Desperate people make mistakes.”

The rain began to fall in earnest, a steady sheet of water that blurred the taillights of the cars ahead of us.

The wipers swept back and forth, making a rhythmic, scraping sound.

I thought of my daughters, Olivia, Grace, and Lily.

They were safe with Mrs. Alvarez, but they wouldn’t truly be free until Margaret was behind bars.

The fear she had instilled in us for years felt like a physical weight in my chest.

“We’re approaching the state line,” Richard said, slowing down slightly as we took the exit for the airport.

Ahead of us, through the gray mist, I saw the flashing blue lights of two state police cruisers.