Chapter 15 - The Reunion
The room was padded, windowless, and freezing. In the center, sitting on a thin mattress, was a frail, hollowed-out woman in a gray institutional gown. Her hair was matted, her eyes vacant from years of heavy sedatives.
Julian stepped into the room. His breath caught in his throat.
"Mom?" he whispered.
The woman didn't move. She stared blankly at the wall.
"Mom, it's me. It's Julian." He walked over and fell to his knees beside the bed, grabbing her frail hands.
Eleanor Vance blinked slowly. The sound of her son’s voice seemed to pierce through the chemical fog in her brain. She turned her head. Her eyes, dull and lifeless, suddenly flared with a spark of terrifying recognition.
"My baby," she choked out, her voice raspy and unused. Tears spilled down her hollow cheeks. She pulled Julian into a desperate, crushing embrace, burying her face in his hair. "My baby, you're so big. You're so big."
Clara stood in the doorway, wiping a tear from her own eye. "Eleanor, we have to go. Arthur knows we're coming."
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Eleanor looked up, seeing Clara for the first time. The panic returned to her eyes. "You don't understand. You can't run from Arthur. He owns the police. He owns everything."
"He doesn't own the FBI," Clara said, holding up the ledger. "I have everything we need to put him away forever. But we have to move."
