We pulled up the long driveway, the gravel crunching beneath the tires.

The front doors of the estate were wide open.

The police escort that had been waiting there was gone, leaving only wet tire tracks on the lawn.

Lucas and Owen came running out onto the porch, their small jackets unzipped.

“Claire! Daddy!” Lucas yelled, his voice echoing across the courtyard.

They ran down the stone steps toward the car.

I opened the passenger door, my legs still shaky, but the exhaustion did not matter anymore.

I knelt on the wet gravel and caught both of my boys in my arms.

They clung to me, their little hands gripping my coat.

“We are safe,” I whispered into Owen’s hair, breathing in their sweet, familiar scent.

“We are safe now.”

Daniel knelt down beside us, his arms wrapping around all three of us.

For the first time, we were holding each other not out of fear, but out of relief.

But as we stood up to walk inside, the phone in Daniel’s pocket began to vibrate.

He pulled it out, looking at the screen.