Zeke didn't have to wait long for Andy to answer. He picked up on the second ring, sounding breathless and anxious. Zeke pulled the phone from his ear and switched it to speakerphone so we could all hear.
"Zeke? It's late. What's going on? Sharon and I haven't heard a word from anybody since earlier, and we've been beside ourselves," Andy said, words tumbling out fast. The fear in his voice made guilt twist through me, but I knew that if we didn't tell him what had happened, he'd only imagine something worse.
Zeke exhaled once and rubbed a hand across his forehead before answering. "We're all right. We're all safe. But tonight went bad fast."
I heard Andy's sharp intake of breath through the speaker. I could practically feel him racing through worst-case scenarios. "What do you mean, something happened?" he finally asked.
"I'm sorry to tell you this over the phone," Zeke said, voice low and even. "Ted was taken from his house. Then men showed up outside ours, and they came for Rocky next."
Andy swore under his breath. "They came for my daughter? What the hell do you mean, they came for her?" His voice dropped, rough and dangerous. "And Ted's gone? Tell me straight—are you all safe?"
Zeke kept his voice measured. "Two men pulled Ted out of his house and shoved him into a van. We saw it happen. A few minutes later, two vehicles rolled down the street, and men came into the house looking for Roxy. We got her hidden before they saw us."
A long, stunned silence followed. We could hear him speaking to Sharon, repeating what Zeke had just told him. He was probably still trying to process it all. After a moment, his voice softened, and he spoke directly to me.
"Let me talk to my daughter," Andy said. Zeke handed me the phone and left it on speaker.
"Hello," I say when the phone is placed in my hand.
"Roxanne, sweetheart, are you all right?" The emotion in his voice almost made me cry.
"I'm okay, Dad. Shaken up, but I'm okay," I said. "We're safe right now. I just don't know how long that's going to last."
"Tell him not to come here," Agent Williams demanded as he stepped closer, arms crossed.
"Andy, did you hear Agent Williams?" Zeke asked. Before he could answer, Zeke continued, "Don't come over. Not today anyway."
"Is it really that dangerous?" Andy asked, concern thick in his voice.
"Yes," Agent Williams said, stepping closer to the phone. "Do not leave your house. Lock every door. Open it for no one unless we clear it first."
"Agent Williams, is that you?" Andy asks hesitantly.
"Yes," Zeke answered. "He's with us. He showed up this morning."
"This has to do with the Dunhill situation, doesn't it?" Andy asked, his voice dropping to a whisper. The room went still. Zeke exchanged a glance with me, then with Agent Williams.
"Yes," Zeke says. "It does."
Andy swore again, louder this time. "I knew it. I knew that bastard had his hands in this. I told Sharon all day that something wasn't right. I could feel it crawling under my skin."
"Dad," I said gently, "we're okay. I promise. But I need you to stay inside and stay safe. Don't drive over here. Don't go outside. Just please keep yourself and Sharon safe."
"All right," he said, his voice cracking. "But I hate this. Every damn bit of it. I just found you, Roxanne. I'm not losing you now."
"I know, Dad. I feel the same way," I whispered. "But we're together, and we're protected for now." Agent Williams shot me a look. It was thoughtful, not skeptical. He had seen enough over the last month to believe it.
Andy let out a shaky breath. "Then you call me if so much as the wind changes. I mean it. I don't care what time it is."
"We will," Zeke tells him. "I promise." The call ended, leaving the bunker in a heavy, echoing quiet.
Uncle Donovan dropped into one of the metal chairs and scrubbed both hands over his face. "Unbelievable. All these years, and there's a full-blown bunker under the house? Mom and Dad really knew how to keep a secret."
"This wasn't built on a whim," Agent Williams said, scanning the room once more, his gaze settling on the surveillance monitors. "Whoever designed it expected a fast exit and a long stay."
"Our family," I whisper.
Agent Williams nodded slowly. "Or someone else who wanted to protect her. Either way, it was meant to protect your family. I'm sure of that."
A chill ran through me, not from fear but from the weight of the revelation. Mom and Grandma hadn't just led me here to hide—they had led me to a place built for us. Zeke sat beside me on the metal bench by the monitor desk, his hand finding mine.
"How are you holding up?" he asked quietly.
"I don't know," I said, letting out a shaky breath. "I'm scared. But I feel safer knowing we have this place."
"You should," Agent Williams said. "This room is reinforced, insulated, and covered on all sides. From a security standpoint, it's the best position we've got."
"Well," Uncle Donovan said, pointing at the screens, "our charming overnight guests finally cleared out. Next time, they ought to at least leave a casserole." He was trying to lighten the mood. Zeke and I managed a smile, but Agent Williams, still fully in protection mode, only looked irritated.
"They'll be back," Agent Williams said, looking directly at Uncle Donovan. "But not today. They'll need to regroup and probably bring backup." I looked at the monitors again. The empty street and quiet yard made the stillness feel fragile. We all waited as if something might shatter it at any moment. After several minutes, I finally spoke.
"We can't stay down here forever," I whispered.
"I know," Agent Williams said. "You're right. But we can use the time we have."
"For what? Braid each other's hair or maybe do manicures. What do you think, Agent Williams?" Uncle Donovan asked.
"No," Agent Williams said irritably. "To plan our next move. Dunhill isn't going to stop, and now that he's shown his hand, we need to be ready—two steps ahead of him." The bunker hummed with the low buzz of the monitors. For a moment, no one spoke. It felt less like peace than a pause between storms. Zeke brushed a strand of hair behind my ear.
"We'll get through this," he said softly. I nodded, grateful for his presence. Deep down, I knew tonight had only been a test. The real fight was just beginning, and I wasn't going to let Dunhill win.
We didn't rush to leave the bunker, even after the monitors showed the street was empty and Agent Williams confirmed the cars were gone. Maybe we were frozen. Maybe we were just overwhelmed. Either way, stepping out too soon felt like breaking the fragile protection wrapped around us.
"We should go up," Agent Williams said, rising to his feet.
Zeke nodded, then squeezed my hand. "Stay close to me," he whispered. Uncle Donovan muttered that he needed a drink the second we got upstairs, and I silently agreed. He followed Agent Williams closely, with Zeke and me bringing up the rear.
The door in the floor groaned softly as it opened, revealing the office above. We climbed the narrow steps into the sunlight streaming through the window. It was early afternoon. The room was bright with washed-out daylight that should have felt comforting, but instead it made everything look too sharp, too exposed. Williams motioned for us to stay put while he swept the house. When he returned, he told us it was clear and safe to leave our sanctuary.
As we stepped into the hallway, exhaustion settled over us. We weren't wired anymore, or panicked—we were simply drained. In daylight, the house felt different. Not frightening, not safe, but steadier, as if whatever had stalked us in the dark had retreated and left behind a heavy silence.
Zeke slipped away and returned moments later with a steaming mug of coffee. His fingers brushed mine as he handed it to me. "You look like you haven't slept in a week," he said gently.
"I feel like it," I said with a quiet laugh. I lifted the mug to my lips and took a sip, welcoming the bitter heat. "But I'm okay, Z." He didn't look convinced, but he didn't press me.
Agent Williams stood on guard near the window, watching the street intensely. His posture made me think he expected danger to materialize out of thin air. Uncle Donovan sat at the kitchen table, staring into his own mug like it might offer the answers he was seeking. After a long moment, Agent Williams turned toward us and spoke.
"We can't stay passive. Last night proved that," he said.
"So do you have a plan?" Zeke asked, leaning against the wall outside the kitchen. Donovan motioned for us to join him at the table, and we did. Each of us took a seat, with Agent Williams at the head. It felt more like a war room than a country kitchen.
Agent Williams looked at each of us in turn, his expression grim but focused. "We need to get ahead of Dunhill. That means gathering evidence, identifying his people, and figuring out how he's tracking you so easily."
"Wait—tracking me?" I repeated, my stomach tightening.
"Yes," Agent Williams said. "It's not a coincidence that he knew Ted talked to me, that he knew you were home, or exactly when to strike. Someone is feeding him information—someone close enough to blend in without raising suspicion."
"So someone in town?" Uncle Donovan asked.
"Yes, maybe someone in town. But a man like Dunhill has a network. He doesn't operate alone," Agent Williams said.
"So what do we do?" I asked, rubbing my suddenly cold arms.
Agent Williams leaned closer and motioned for us to do the same. "First, we secure this house," he said quietly. "The bunker gives us an advantage, but we need to reinforce the rest of the property too—cameras, alarms, motion sensors, anything that buys us time to get Roxanne to safety. Second, at night, we all sleep in the bunker. It's big enough for everyone. We'll stock it with supplies in case we need to stay hidden for a day or two."
"I can help with security installation. Andy can help me, too. Sharon, Rocky, and Donovan can take care of stocking and organizing the bunker," Zeke offers.
"Good," Agent Williams said. "Third, we need to talk to Sharon and Andy in person, not over the phone. Their line may be compromised."
"You think they could be in danger too?" Uncle Donovan asked, worry sharpening his voice.
"Anyone close to Roxanne is in danger," Agent Williams told us. "Dunhill uses leverage. If he can't get to you directly, he'll go after the people you care about."
My chest tightened. "We need them here with us," I said, panic rising in my voice.
"Tomorrow," Agent Williams said calmly. "We'll bring them in tomorrow morning, when we know the roads are secure."
"What about meeting my brother and sister?" Uncle Donovan asked. I had been worried about their safety, too. I wanted to meet them, but right now, their safety mattered more.
"We can't risk meeting with them until Dunhill is neutralized. Only then will it be safe. Don't worry—I have agents watching them. If they're in danger, my people will step in."
"What about Ted?" Zeke asks, setting his mug down.
Agent Williams's jaw tightened. "We don't know where Ted is or exactly who took him. But we do know who's behind it and why."
"Because he talked," I mutter as a cold chill races down my spine.
"Yes. And because Dunhill is cleaning house. Anyone who knows too much becomes a threat." The room went silent as the weight of his words settled over us.
Uncle Donovan cleared his throat and looked at me. "What about the spirits? Mom and Amber. Do you think they'll come back?" I looked toward the hallway where they first appeared, half expecting to see a flickering light or dark shadow move, but the air was calm.
"I don't know," I said softly, hoping for one more glimpse of them. "But they came when we needed them. That has to mean something, right?"
Zeke pulled me into a hug and whispered, "It means you're never alone. You have the living and the dead watching over you."
Agent Williams nodded. "It also means you have an advantage—one Dunhill doesn't understand. And that terrifies him, because it's beyond his control."
A strange, quiet strength settled in my chest at his words. For the first time since this nightmare began, I didn't feel like prey. I felt chosen—by my family, my heritage, and the people standing beside me.
Agent Williams glanced at his watch. "It's almost afternoon. I'll stay here for a few more hours, then I need to go to the office and make some calls. I'll be back tonight before dark, and we'll regroup."
We all nodded. I stood and looked around the house. This was where my family had lived, loved, hidden secrets, and built protection long before I knew I would need it. Last night proved one thing to me: Mayor Dunhill was not the only one with power.