Chapter 3 - MidnightFive nights after we left, my phone rang at 12:47 a.m. Marguerite. Owen was asleep beside me. I answered quietly.

"Marguerite?"

Nothing. Then I heard breathing.

"Natalie?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

I sat up. "Are you alone?"

I looked at Owen. "He's asleep. What's wrong?"

Another silence. Then the sentence that made my stomach drop.

"Natalie, I need you to save me."

I was out of bed immediately. "Where's Desmond?"

"Sleeping."

"Did he hurt you?"

"No."

"Did he threaten you?"

"No."

"Are you locked in somewhere?"

"No."

I stopped. "Then tell me what's happening."

Her breathing hitched. "I can't explain this properly over the phone."

"Marguerite—"

"I just know I don't want to be here when he wakes up and starts trying to talk me out of leaving again."

That was different. "Has he stopped you from leaving?"

"No."

"Taken your phone? Your money?"

"No."

"Then what happened?"

Silence for several seconds. "I think I made a mistake. I want to come home." Then, whispered: "Please help me. Don't tell my son."

"What?"

"Please."

"Marguerite, if you're in danger—"

"I'm not scared exactly."

That answer made everything more complicated. She sounded embarrassed. More than that, she sounded unsure whether she was even entitled to leave.

"Where are you right now?"

"In the bathroom."

"Can you get out safely?"

"Yes."

"Then pack what you need. Go somewhere public. Text me the address."

"Natalie—"

"I'm coming."

She started crying. "I feel ridiculous."

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"You can feel ridiculous after breakfast."

By six that morning I was at the airport. I left Owen a note saying Marguerite needed me, that I'd explain once I understood what was happening. After landing, I texted him one sentence: She's safe. I'll call you when I understand the rest.