Chapter 2

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I leaned back against the cool metal of the van’s interior, the weight of the world pressing down on my chest like a heavy stone. “Oh Jesus… thank goodness,” I exhaled deeply, my voice barely a whisper.

The tension in the air was palpable, and I could feel Liz’s piercing glare drilling into me.

I knew she had every right to be angry. My carelessness could have led to something catastrophic, and the thought of it made my stomach churn.

Her eyes bored into me, silently accusing. “You need to pay more attention. The kids are depending on you,” she said stiffly, her voice laced with frustration.

I dropped my gaze, shame flooding my cheeks. “I know. I’m sorry,” I mumbled, the words feeling inadequate.

In the backseat, Dan’s sobs had escalated, morphing into frantic cries that echoed in the confined space.

Nothing Liz said seemed to console him as he curled inward, arms wrapped around his knees. The trauma of our near-miss had sent him spiraling into a panic, and I felt helpless.

I glanced at him through the rearview mirror, my heart aching. “Dan, it’s alright now. We’re all safe.” But he didn’t seem to hear me, lost in a world of his own fear and turmoil. I felt like I was failing him, failing all of them.

Liz shot me a look that brooked no argument. “Take us to the beach. Get the kids out of this van. Maybe the fresh air will help calm him down.” I nodded, shifting the van into drive once more, the engine’s hum a stark contrast to the anxious silence that enveloped us.

The short drive felt like an eternity, each moment stretching into the next. When we finally arrived, Liz wasted no time, pulling a still-sobbing Dan from the van while Samantha jumped out, relief washing over her as her feet hit solid ground.

I joined them slowly, guilt weighing me down like a lead anchor. But dwelling on the past wouldn’t undo what had happened.

All I could do now was be more careful and help my family begin to heal from this traumatic experience. It was a grim reminder of how quickly life could change, how fragile it was—something we often took for granted.

As I stood on the beach, gazing out at the scene before me, I felt a mixture of envy and longing.

Families and friends laughed together, their joy infectious. Young people frolicked in the surf, while others sprawled on the sand, soaking up the sun’s warmth.

But my attention kept drifting back to one family in particular—a father playing frisbee with his three grown children, their laughter echoing in the salty breeze. When their mother joined them, drinks in hand, and pulled her husband in for a kiss, I felt a sharp pang in my chest. That was what I had hoped for with my own family—a lifetime of happy memories and togetherness.

But now, that dream felt like a distant memory, one that might never be fully realized. “Only God knows what happens to us from here,” I thought sadly.

I felt Liz’s eyes on me, and I could see the question forming in her gaze before she even spoke. “What’s troubling you?” she asked gently.

When I didn’t respond right away, too lost in my turmoil, she tried again. “Joe...what’s up?”

Her hand rested on my arm, a grounding presence that pulled me back from the shadows of my mind.

I met her eyes with a weary sigh. “I was just thinking… wishing things could be different. That we could have what that family over there has.”

Liz’s face softened, and she squeezed my arm reassuringly. “I know. But we’re doing the best we can right now, for the kids. Try to be hopeful—there’s still a chance, if we work at it.”

Her words were meant to comfort, but they felt hollow, like an echo in an empty room. Deep down, I knew our problems ran too deep, and the damage was already done.

Stepping a few feet away from the kids, I turned to Liz, my heart heavy with the weight of unspoken words. “We need to talk.”

Danny watched us closely, his anxious gaze darting between us. It seemed all his parents did lately was argue. Even from a distance, he could sense the tension in our bodies, the strained tones of our voices.

“You didn’t have to embarrass me in front of the kids like that,” I started, my voice low but firm. Liz frowned in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

I shook my head, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “The way you pulled away from me in the car. Dan definitely saw it. I’m sure it upset him more. I love you; I’m trying here.” My voice cracked with emotion. “I know I messed up with work, not being there for you all. But I want to fix this, whatever it takes.”

Liz’s expression shifted as she realized the hurt she’d caused. She reached for my hand, holding it firmly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make a scene. You’re right; the kids come first.”

Her words offered a glimmer of hope, but I could see the sadness in Danny’s eyes. All the fights had chipped away at his belief that our love could withstand anything.

I feared no reconciliation would mend the fractured bonds of the family he still so desperately needed.

“Uh, there’s another thing…” I hesitated, feeling the weight of my next words. When I couldn’t continue, Liz’s brow furrowed in concern.

“Never mind. Don’t worry,” I replied, trying to dismiss the thought. Liz seemed to sense my unease and agreed to let it go, relieving some of the tension that had built between us.

But something still gnawed at me, and I could see it reflected in my regretful, fearful eyes. We embraced for a few seconds, the warmth of her body offering a momentary reprieve from the storm brewing inside me.

When we pulled apart, Liz stared directly at me, her gaze piercing through the facade I had tried to maintain.“Joe, what did you want to say before?” she asked firmly. “Don’t avoid it if it will affect us—I need to know the problem.”

My silence pained her, and I could see the worry etching lines on her face. “Is it about me?” she asked shakily. “Or work?”

Seeing the rising tension, I spoke. “No, it’s neither of you. It’s the other.”

Liz pressed on, “So what happened at work?” Just then, a message on my phone caught my attention, and I could feel my heart sink as I read it.

“Joe, what is it?” she asked, her voice tinged with worry.

I let out a long sigh, the weight of my reality crashing down on me. “I just got laid off. The company is downsizing, and my position was eliminated.”

Liz gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. “Oh no, that’s awful. I’m so sorry.”

“Me too,” I said, the sadness in my voice heavy. “I don’t know what we’re going to do. We need my income to keep up with the bills and mortgage.”

She took my hands in hers, her grip firm and reassuring. “We’ll figure it out,” she said supportively. “This is just a bump in the road. Maybe it’s time you looked for a new job doing something you really love.”

Her words hung in the air, a fragile thread of hope woven through the chaos. But deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were standing on the precipice of something far more daunting than a mere bump in the road.

I nodded, but the weight of the situation pressed heavily on my chest. “I know, you’re right. It’s just a shock, you know? I wasn’t expecting this at all.”

Liz, always the steady anchor in my stormy seas, looked at me with concern. “I know, honey. But we’re in this together. I still have my job. We’ll tighten our belts for a while until you find something new.”

I pulled her into a hug, feeling the warmth and strength radiating from her.

Despite the fear gnawing at my insides about our future, I found solace in her embrace. With Liz by my side, I believed we could weather this storm, no matter how fierce.

But then my phone chimed again, jolting me from the moment. I glanced down, and my heart sank.

Another message, this time from an unknown number. As I opened it, panic surged through me like a tidal wave. I couldn’t find my voice, and I could feel Liz’s curiosity intensifying as she noticed my distress.

“What now?” she demanded, her tone sharp and filled with concern.

I stared blankly at the screen, my mind racing.

The image was downloading, and with each passing second, my anxiety mounted. “No!” I cried out, the word escaping my lips before I could stop it.

Liz, sensing the urgency, grabbed my phone, her worry eclipsing any hesitation.

The message read: “Engineer Joe, I know you were there. You can’t run from us.”

Fear gripped Liz’s features, her confusion palpable.

I whispered desperately, “No, no… Rafael.” My voice cracked under the weight of the truth. “Honey, Rafael is dead. He was killed.”

Her eyes widened, and I could see the fear mirrored in them as I continued, “We have to leave now.”

“Joe, calm down. I need to understand what’s happening,” she pressed, her voice steady despite the chaos swirling around us.

I rushed to gather the kids, my heart pounding. “I’m sorry, but our time here is over. We must keep moving.” Liz complied, but I could feel her demanding answers with every fiber of her being.

We hurried to the van, strapping the kids in silence, fear hanging thick in the air. I raked my fingers through my hair, despair clawing at my mind as I realized the unknown threats pursuing us.

“I don’t know what I did, what I was thinking. It all happened so fast,” I began, my voice hurried and ragged.

Liz listened intently, her eyes wide as I tried to explain. “That last contract, the Empire State Building—Rafael didn’t look into it closely enough. There were ownership disputes, conflicts surrounding it.”

I continued, “I found out later they were battling legally and illegally over rights to the company. I got a threat to stop work, but it was too late—I’d already taken half payment.”

“Stop work from who?” Liz demanded, her voice rising.

“The opposition parties,” I answered uneasily. “I heard he is a mafia boss—somewhat of a big deal. The Russo family.”

As the car raced down the road, I could feel Liz’s frustration boiling over. “You never told me any of this. Is this why we’re running? Your passion for this job has put our lives in danger. How could you do this?” Her voice trembled, overwhelmed by the sudden peril we faced.

I floundered for answers, the consequences of my actions now terrorizing my family. I had endangered their safety through my reckless decisions and deceit.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” I said, guilt washing over me like a cold wave. “My employer pressured me too.”

“Then why are we running?” Liz asked, desperation lacing her words.

“One night, I forgot a blueprint, so I went back to get it. What I witnessed…” I hesitated, the memory clawing at me. “This man stabbed Mr. Ben Toya five times, right in front of me. His boys didn’t notice me until my phone beeped.”

“Was that the night I called?” Liz’s voice grew faint, exhaustion etched on her face.

I nodded, the weight of my confession hanging heavily in the air. “Ben was my employer.” I shook my head painfully. “I thought I’d escaped, but…”

“Don’t blame yourself, honey. This was doomed from the start,” Liz said, trying to reassure me even as I took responsibility for the chaos. “All we can do right now is get far away…”

Suddenly, Samantha, our youngest, burst into tears, sensing the tension in the van.

“Mr. Banks,” I turned to my frightened children, my heart breaking. “It will be okay, I promise. Dan, hold Samantha. Take care of your sister.”

Liz wiped her own tears, shielding the kids from further distress as I drove desperately, my mind racing with fear and regret.

And then, without warning, a truck appeared at the junction, colliding with our van. The world erupted into chaos—screeching metal, shattering glass, the blaring sound of horns.

In that somber moment, everything happened so fast.

Voices in the distance yelled for help, but within the wreckage, my family lay trapped, lives hanging by a thread. My mistakes had finally caught up to us, and I could only pray it wasn’t too late.