His phone lit up. A call from Sarah. He declined it and stepped out of the car.
At the entrance, a host stopped him. “Good evening. Do you have a reservation?” “No, I’m looking for my wife,” James said, his voice hoarse.
“Sarah Thompson. She’s here.” “I’m sorry, we can’t share guest information.”
“I’m her husband.” James pulled out his ID. “Here, look.
I just need to know where she is.” The host studied the ID, then James. “One moment.”
He stepped to the desk and spoke quietly into a phone. James scanned the dining room, searching for a familiar figure. Her favorite spot—by the window, away from the entrance.
She always chose those tables when they dined here together. Quick footsteps approached from behind. “James.”
He turned. Sarah stood a few steps away, in a black evening dress he’d never seen. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes filled with fear.
“Let’s go.” She moved toward him. “Please, let’s talk at home.”
“No.” James shook his head. “No more lies.
Where is he?” “Who?” Sarah paled. “Harris. Or whoever you’re with.” His voice trembled.
“Twenty thousand in three months, Sarah. Twenty thousand. Including my car savings.
What’s going on?” “Quiet.” She grabbed his arm. “Please, not here.”
“Why not? Afraid your therapist will hear?” “James, you’ve got it all wrong.” “Then explain. Right now.
Where’s the money? Who are you sending it to? And why are you lying to me?” Tears glistened in Sarah’s eyes. “Fine,” she said, taking a deep breath.
“But not here. Let’s go to the car.” James followed her to the parking lot.
His head was buzzing. He watched her straight back, her elegant stride, and barely recognized the woman he’d lived with for years. In the car, Sarah sat silently, fidgeting with her purse strap.
“Remember Kevin?” she finally said. “What Kevin?” “My brother.” James frowned.
“Sarah’s younger brother died ten years ago in a car crash. They rarely spoke of him. Too painful.
What’s Kevin got to do with this?” “My nephew. He’s alive.” James stared at her, stunned.
“What?” “You said—we all thought Kevin’s son died in that crash too.” “I thought so too.”
Sarah clenched her fists. “Three months ago, a woman called me. Said she worked at that hospital.
The boy was saved, but he was in critical condition. And then…” She took a shaky breath. “He was adopted.
Illegally. They faked his death certificate, and the real documents… they’re with this Harris. He’s demanding money for them.”
“Blackmail?” James felt a chill inside. “Yes,” Sarah whispered. “He threatens to destroy all evidence, and without it, we’ll never find the boy.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” James took her hand. “Why keep it from me?” “I was scared.” Her voice shook.
“Harris said if I told anyone, especially you or the police, he’d destroy everything. And then… I’d never know where Kevin’s son is. The restaurants, boutiques, spas… those were his demands.
He makes me go to specific places, spend money. Says it’s to test my ability and willingness to keep paying.” “But that’s straight-up fraud!” James slammed his palm on the steering wheel.
“How long are you going to pay this creep?” “What if he’s telling the truth?” Tears welled in Sarah’s eyes. “If my nephew is really alive, I have to find him. I have to.
It’s the last thing I can do for Kevin.” “And how much longer will he bleed you dry?” “Twenty thousand in three months, Sarah. It’s insane!” “He promised to hand over all documents next week.
Said it’s the final payment.” “And you believe him?” James turned to her. “He says ‘final’ every time, then comes up with new demands.
This will never end.” “What am I supposed to do?” Sarah covered her face with her hands. “I can’t just give up.
I can’t abandon the search.” James looked at his wife. So vulnerable now, so lost.
All his suspicions, his jealousy, suddenly seemed petty compared to her pain. “We’re going to the police,” he said firmly, “right now.” “No, he’ll destroy everything.”
“Sarah, listen.” James took her by the shoulders. “If your nephew is alive, we can find him legally.
There are databases, specialists. And if it’s a scam, this guy needs to be stopped.” “I’m scared,” she whispered, “scared I’ll miss my only chance.”
“And I’m scared of losing you.” James pulled her close. “You’re exhausted, you’ve lost weight, you barely sleep.
This has to stop.” “I’m sorry,” Sarah pressed her face into his shoulder. “For lying, for the money.
I didn’t know what to do.” “We’ll handle it together,” he stroked her hair. “No more secrets, okay?”
At that moment, Sarah’s phone chimed. She flinched and pulled it from her purse. “He’s here, in the restaurant,” her voice trembled.
“He says if I’m not back in five minutes, the deal’s off, and all documents…” “Perfect,” James opened the car door decisively. “Then we’ll talk to him now.” “Wait,” Sarah grabbed his arm.
“You don’t understand, he’s very influential.” “All the better, he has something to lose.” James was resolute.
“Where’s he sitting?” “Far table, by the window, gray suit.” Sarah spoke almost in a whisper. “But let’s not do this tonight, let’s think it through.”
“No. No more running, no more fear. Let’s go.”
He took her hand. Her fingers were icy. Back in the restaurant, the host tried to stop them again, but James strode past, leading Sarah to the far table.
Matthew Harris looked just like his photo. Graying temples, thin-framed glasses, a condescending half-smile. “Ah, the lovely Sarah,” Harris raised his wine glass.
“And, I presume, her husband? Have a seat.” “No, thanks.” James rested his hands on the back of the chair opposite.
“Let’s talk. About how you’re blackmailing my wife.” Harris’s smile widened.
“Such strong words! I’m merely providing a service. Information costs money, you understand?” “I understand. Just like I understand extortion is a felony.”
“Extortion?” Harris raised his eyebrows theatrically. “Got proof? Recordings? Witnesses?” Sarah squeezed James’s hand tighter. “There are bank transfers,” James said calmly.
“There’s your message history. There’s us, two witnesses.” “Oh, those transfers!” Harris sipped his wine.
“For perfectly legal consultations. I have all the licenses, paperwork. And messages? I was just nurturing your wife’s hope of finding her lost nephew.