Chapter 27 Chapter 27
TWENTY-SEVEN~
I showed Declan the message without saying anything. His jaw clenched.
"She's in maximum security," he said. "How is she sending messages?"
"Someone on the outside," I said. "Someone helping her."
We called Detective Morrison immediately.
"I'll look into it," he promised. "Victoria shouldn't have access to phones or outside communication beyond approved calls. If she's reaching you, someone is breaking protocol."
"Can you increase security at the prison?" Declan asked.
"I'll recommend it," Detective Morrison said. "But Anita, Declan—try not to let this ruin your day. Victoria is powerless. She's locked up. A text message can't hurt you."
But he was wrong. The message had already hurt us. It had reminded us that we would never truly be safe. That there would always be someone, somewhere, wanting to destroy what we'd built.
That night, I couldn't sleep. I lay in bed listening to Declan's breathing, thinking about Victoria in her cell, plotting revenge she couldn't carry out.
Or could she?
The next morning, Detective Morrison called back with news.
"Victoria has been in solitary confinement for the past month," he said. "Fighting with other inmates, causing trouble. She has no access to phones or computers."
"Then how did she send that message?" I asked.
"That's what I'm trying to figure out," he said. "I'm reviewing visitor logs, phone records, everything. Someone is helping her, but I don't know who yet."
Over the next week, more messages came. Always from different numbers, always untraceable.
The twins are getting so big. Liam is settling in nicely. One big happy family. Too bad it won't last.
Do you sleep at night, Anita? Do you check the locks? Do you wonder when I'll come for you?
Prison is temporary. Revenge is forever.
Each message made me more paranoid. I started triple-checking all the doors and windows. I hired additional security. I barely let the kids out of my sight.
"You're spiraling," Dr. Martinez said during an emergency session. "This is exactly what Victoria wants—for you to live in fear."
"How do I not be afraid?" I asked. "She's threatened us before, and she followed through. Why should I believe these are empty threats?"
"Because she's in prison," Dr. Martinez said firmly. "She can't physically hurt you."
"But someone outside could," I argued. "Someone she's paying or manipulating."
"Then we trust the police to find that person," Dr. Martinez said. "But Anita, you cannot let fear control your life. You have three children who need you present and stable. Don't let Victoria take that from you."
She was right, but changing how I felt was harder than knowing I should change.
Two weeks after the messages started, Detective Morrison finally got a break.
"We found who's sending them," he said. "It's Victoria's cellmate's boyfriend. He's been sneaking messages out for her during visits."
"Can you arrest him?" Declan asked.
"Already done," Detective Morrison said. "He's being charged with aiding a prisoner. And Victoria has lost all visiting privileges. The messages should stop now."
They did stop. For a while.
But the damage was done. I couldn't relax anymore. Every time my phone buzzed, my heart raced. Every stranger on the street looked suspicious.
"This isn't living," Sarah said one afternoon when she found me checking the security cameras for the fifth time in an hour. "Anita, you're making yourself sick with worry."
"I'm keeping my family safe," I corrected.
"You're keeping your family anxious," Sarah said gently. "Look at Liam. He's started doing that thing again where he hoards food. He can feel your stress, and it's triggering his own trauma responses."
I looked over at Liam, who was indeed stuffing crackers in his pockets when he thought no one was looking.
"I'm making it worse," I realized.
"You're trying to protect them," Sarah said. "But sometimes the best protection is showing them that the world is safe. That they don't need to be constantly afraid."
She was right. I knew she was right.
But changing years of learned trauma responses wasn't easy.
Dr. Martinez suggested a family vacation—something to break the cycle of fear and remind us that life could be normal and happy.
"Where would we even go?" I asked Declan. "Somewhere safe enough, but not so remote that we're isolated..."
"What about a beach resort?" Declan suggested. "One with good security but a family-friendly atmosphere. The kids would love it."
We chose a resort in the Caribbean, one recommended by Margaret Chen. It had twenty-four-hour security, was on a private island, and specialized in families with young children.
"This is perfect," I said, looking at the brochure. "Liam can learn to swim. The twins can play in the sand. We can all just... relax."
The week before we left, I made myself stop checking the security cameras constantly. I practiced the breathing exercises Dr. Martinez taught me. I tried to be present with the kids instead of always watching for threats.
It helped. A little.
The flight to the resort was chaotic—traveling with three kids under five was no joke—but we made it.
The resort was beautiful. White sand beaches, clear blue water, palm trees swaying in the breeze. Our villa was right on the beach, with a private pool and playground.
"This is amazing," Declan said, watching the kids explore their new temporary home.
Liam was cautious at first, but soon he was running through the sand, laughing as the waves chased him.
The twins loved it too. Maya kept trying to eat the sand, and Nathan was fascinated by the seashells.
For the first time in months, I felt myself relaxing.
We spent our days swimming, building sandcastles, eating fresh fruit, and watching the sunset. The kids were happy, Declan was happy, and slowly, I started to be happy too.
"See?" Declan said one evening after we'd put the kids to bed. "No threats. No danger. Just a normal family on a normal vacation."
"You're right," I admitted. "I needed this. We all did."
That night, for the first time in weeks, I slept through the night without waking up to check on the kids.
The next morning, I woke up feeling refreshed and hopeful.
Then I saw the message on my phone.
Having fun in paradise? The resort looks lovely. Room 127 has a great view of the beach. Enjoy it while you can. - V
Victoria knew where we were.
Somehow, despite being in prison with no communication privileges, she knew exactly where we were staying.
I showed Declan the message with shaking hands.
"How?" I whispered. "How does she know?"
Declan immediately called resort security. They swept our room and found a small tracking device hidden in Liam's backpack—the one we'd brought from home.
"Someone planted this before you left," the security guard said. "They've been tracking your movements."
"We need to leave," I said. "Right now."
"Let's not panic," Declan said, though I could see he was scared too. "We'll move to a different room. Increase security. But we're not letting Victoria ruin this vacation."
"She knows where we are," I said. "That means someone working for her could be here too."
"Then we let security handle it," Declan said firmly. "We came here to prove to ourselves and our kids that we can live normally. Leaving now would just prove that fear wins."
I wanted to argue, but I saw the determination in his eyes.
He was right. We couldn't keep running.
Resort security moved us to a different villa on the other side of the property. They assigned a guard to watch our door. They swept everything we owned for tracking devices and found two more—one in my purse, one in Declan's laptop bag.
"Whoever planted these had access to your home," the head of security said. "Do you know who that could be?"
I thought about everyone who'd been in our house recently. My parents, Sarah, various delivery people, the cleaning service...
"I don't know," I admitted. "It could be anyone."
Detective Morrison, when we called him, had a theory.
"Victoria probably paid someone to plant those devices before you left," he said. "A cleaner, a delivery person, someone who wouldn't be noticed. I'll investigate everyone who's had access to your house in the past month."
For the rest of the vacation, I couldn't fully relax. Even with the extra security, even in our new villa, I kept waiting for something to happen.
But nothing did. No more messages, no attacks, nothing.
Maybe Victoria was just trying to scare us. And it had worked.
When we got home, Detective Morrison had news.
"We found who planted the tracking devices," he said. "Your cleaning service had a new employee who was hired specifically to get into your house. She'd been paid by someone online to plant the devices."
"Who paid her?" Declan asked.
"That's what we're still trying to figure out," Detective Morrison said. "The payments came from an anonymous account. But the woman admitted what she did. She's being charged, and we're working on tracing the money."
"Let me guess," I said bitterly. "It'll be another dead end. Another mystery person working for Victoria."
"Maybe," Detective Morrison admitted. "But we're not giving up."
I appreciated his persistence, but I was tired of playing detective. Tired of always being one step behind whoever was targeting us.
"I want to visit Victoria," I said suddenly.
Both Declan and Detective Morrison looked at me like I was crazy.
"Absolutely not," Declan said. "That's exactly what she wants."
"Maybe," I said. "But I'm tired of being afraid of her. Tired of wondering what she's planning. If I talk to her face-to-face, maybe I can figure out who's helping her."
"Or maybe she'll just manipulate you," Declan argued.
"She's tried that before," I pointed out. "It didn't work. I'm not the same person I was when we first met. I'm stronger now."
Detective Morrison looked thoughtful. "It might actually help," he said. "If Victoria thinks she's winning, thinks she's scaring you, she might let something slip about her outside contacts."
"I don't like this," Declan said.
"You don't have to," I said gently. "But I'm doing it anyway."
Two days later, I sat in a prison visiting room, waiting for Victoria to be brought in.
My heart pounded as the door opened and she walked in, wearing an orange jumpsuit, her hands cuffed.
She looked different than I remembered. Thinner, harder, with a wild look in her eyes.
"Anita," she said, sitting down across from me. "What a pleasant surprise."
"I got your messages," I said, keeping my voice steady. "All of them."
"Did you?" Victoria smiled. "I thought you might."
"Who's helping you?" I asked directly. "Who's sending messages for you, planting tracking devices?"
"Wouldn't you like to know," Victoria said, her smile widening. "Let's just say I have friends in interesting places."
"Friends who are going to end up in prison with you," I said. "Detective Morrison is investigating. He'll find them."
"Maybe," Victoria said. "Or maybe they're smarter than the police. Maybe they'll actually succeed where I failed."
"What do you want?" I asked. "What's the endgame here? You can send all the threatening messages you want, but you're in here and we're out there living our lives. You've already lost."
Victoria's smile faded. "I haven't lost until you've lost everything," she said coldly. "Your perfect husband, your perfect children, your perfect life—I want to watch it all crumble."
"Why?" I asked. "What did I ever do to you besides exist?"
"You took what was mine," Victoria said simply. "Declan should have been mine. We should have built a life together. Instead, you swooped in and stole him."
"I didn't steal anyone," I said. "Declan chose me because he loves me. Because I make him happy in ways you never could."
Victoria's face twisted with rage. "You think you're so special. You think you won. But you're just as pathetic as I am. Clinging to a man who will eventually get bored of you, just like he got bored of me."
"The difference is, I actually love Declan," I said. "Not the idea of him, not what he can give me, but who he is. That's something you never understood."
Victoria stood up abruptly. "This visit is over."
"Wait," I said. "Just tell me one thing. Who's helping you? Give me a name, and maybe I can help get you better treatment here."
Victoria laughed bitterly. "You think I'd betray my allies for better treatment? I'd rather rot in here knowing that eventually, they'll succeed in destroying you."
She called for the guard and left without another word.
The visit had been a failure. I'd learned nothing except that Victoria's hatred ran deeper than I'd imagined.
"She's not going to give up," I told Declan that night. "Even from prison, she's going to keep trying to hurt us."
"Then we keep being vigilant," Declan said. "We keep loving each other and our children. And we don't let her win by living in fear."
It sounded good. But I didn't know if I could actually do it.
The next morning, I woke up to find another message.
But this time, it wasn't from Victoria's number.
It was from Jake.
Anita, I heard about what's happening with Victoria. I might be able to help. Call me.
A phone number followed.
I stared at the message, unsure what to do.
Jake had disappeared after helping us against Marcus. What could he possibly know about Victoria?
But I was desperate enough to try anything.
I called the number.
"Anita," Jake's voice said. "Thank you for calling."
"How did you know about Victoria?" I asked.
"I've been keeping tabs on the situation," Jake admitted. "From a distance. I know that's probably creepy, but I wanted to make sure you and Liam were okay."
"Liam is fine," I said. "We adopted him. He's part of our family now."
Jake was quiet for a moment. "Thank you. For giving him the family I never could."
"What do you know about Victoria?" I pressed.
"I know who's helping her," Jake said. "It's someone you know. Someone who's been close to your family for months."
My heart sank. "Who?"
"Your new cleaning servic
e employee—the one who planted the tracking devices?" Jake said. "She didn't work alone. She was recruited by someone who's been inside your home many times. Someone you trust."
"Just tell me who," I demanded.
Jake took a breath. "It's Catherine Reynolds. Victoria's mother.”