AARON But there was nothing there. Or if there was, a hard look would make it vanish, like breath on cold glass. I didn’t wait to figure it out. The three of us ran across the road from the church parking lot to the field, gravel biting into my shoes, lungs burning too fast. Our car saw us coming. Its lights blinked on, soft and automatic, and the doors unlocked with a familiar, merciful click. Elena already had her phone out. I saw her screen flash as she typed a new destination for the autopilot, her thumbs moving with frantic precision. I yanked open the back door and shoved Lucas into his booster seat, skipping the straps, my hands shaking too much to thread them. Elena and I slammed our doors shut at the same time. The seals hissed closed, and the car moved the instant they did, gliding almost silently from the field onto the road. No engine roar. No drama. Just motion. We were leaving behind what was clearly a place of slaughter. I twisted in my seat to look at Lucas. His eyes were huge, pupils blown wide. He shook a little, small tremors running through his shoulders, tears clinging to his lashes and streaking down his cheeks. He hadn’t seen what we saw, not the blood, not the shapes on the ground, but he knew. He knew his mom and dad were terrified. I wanted to tell him everything was fine. I wanted to lie until he felt safe. The words rose up and jammed in my throat, heavy and useless. Elena was already there, kneeling in the narrow space between the seats, stroking his hair, murmuring his name. In seconds, he was in her arms as she settled back into her seat, his face buried against her coat, his small hands fisted in the fabric like it was the only solid thing left in the world. The Haven Assembly Hall shrank fast in the mirror, its pale walls receding into darkness. My senses felt sharp, electric, every nerve buzzing. I kept twisting to look behind us, watching for movement, for headlights, for anything that might follow. My pulse thundered in my ears. Then headlights appeared ahead. Another car. I knew instantly where they were going. I felt it in my gut, a cold, sick certainty. They were heading for the false safety of our church. I began to flash our headlights, over and over. I rolled down my window and leaned out, the night air tearing at my face as I waved my arms wildly, trying to make myself bigger, clearer. As they were about to pass, I made a frantic slashing motion across my neck. Stop. Turn around. Don’t go there. They just stared. A man and a woman. Their eyes were wide with panic, probably from seeing a madman half out of his window, not from understanding my warning. The car swept past us. As it did, I saw two car seats facing the back. Bright plastic. Small blankets. My heart lurched so hard it hurt. I watched through the rear window, breath held, praying to see their red tail lights flare white as they reversed. Instead, I watched their turn signal blink once, calmly, and their car turned into the parking lot of the Assembly Hall. I closed my eyes. I thought of all the things I could do. Slam the brakes. Spin around. Rush back. Scream. Wave. Stand in front of their car if I had to. Save that family. Keep those children safe. I opened my eyes. I looked at Elena, her face hidden in Lucas’s hair, her body curled protectively around him.His crying was muffled now, broken and exhausted, absorbed by her coat. In that moment, something hard and final settled inside me. I knew I would do none of those things. I would never risk my family for someone else’s again. Not ever. I could only hope that family would see the blood on the ground before it was too late. I hoped their children would not add to it. From now on, there was only one child, one woman, that mattered. I pulled them both into my arms, holding on as tightly as I could. Within seconds, Lucas’s cries were joined by my own.