I rub the space above my brows to fight the stabbing headache. Fuck, what a meltdown. And in a grocery store. That's a new low. The dude must've thought I'm crazy, although he seemed nice enough, at least until I dropped the kid-bomb. Then he withdrew with the typical asshole-cringe expression.

Which was a shame because he was decisively handsome. His warm brown eyes with the twinkle sparked a fire in me that would've turned embarrassing if anyone had bothered to check my panties. And then his slender fingers that drove my mind to R-rated activities my body has sorely been lacking. Though his long-curved eyelashes were the major selling point. Sexy on a man and a definite fuck trap. If I hadn't been so upset, I might've even been more open to the coffee idea.

"Mom, are you okay?"

I look up and give Xavier a brave smile. "All good, cariño. How was your day?"

"Fine." He wrinkles his nose, avoiding my gaze.

"Is everything alright at school?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Did you make any friends?"

He shakes his head.

The air deflates out of me. We both are miserable.

Tears sparkle in his eyes. "Why did we have to move?"

"You know why. Living here guarantees us a better life."

"I miss Dad."

That's the one thing I can't give him. Lucas won't be part of our future.

"Are the other kids bullying you? Should I talk to your teachers?"

"It's not that. They pronounce my name funny and I don't like it."

"Funny how?"

"They call me X-Avier, like it's two words."

"That's how Americans pronounce it. I'm sure you'll get used to it." Advice I should adopt myself. Being Robyn Sinclair still gets zero reaction out of me. I squeeze my son's hand. "I bought oranges, so I can bake your birthday cake."

His eyes lights up. "Can I help?"

"Of course."

Walking behind him into the kitchen, I tousle his hair. "And I got candles, too." Ten in total, one for each year of his life. I open the fridge to take out the eggs. Xavier is already washing his hands. The excitement in his face eases some of the tension in my neck.

Take a deep breath and smile. It's your baby's birthday.

He dries his hands on a towel. "Before I forget, Uncle E called. He wants you to call him back. He said it's important."

That's one call I'm not looking forward to, so I should get it over with or the prospect will ruin the rest of my night. "Cariño, could you squeeze the oranges already? I'm going to quickly call E."

"Sure." Without another glance in my direction, Xavier gets to work. I smile at his eager face. He loves cooking and baking, something that would've subjected him to ridicule if we hadn't left. For my family, toughness is the only attribute that matters for a man.

I dig the cell out of my purse and walk into my bedroom, closing the door. New York is two hours ahead of home and E should still be at the office.

He picks up almost immediately, his voice light with a hint of laughter. A rare, good mood for him. "Am I speaking to the new senior associate of Wilson & Wilson Law Office?"

My forehead wrinkles. "Unfortunately not. I got stuck in traffic, which made me an hour late, and I missed the interview." The receptionist didn't even offer to reschedule. "Why did you think I got the job?"

"Because we got a few hits on your new identity."

That makes no sense. "What kind of hits?"

"The usual stuff. Online footprint, criminal background and financial credit check, educational credentials. Maybe the law office did it to prepare for the interview."

I doubt it. "Can you trace who ran the search?"

"Sure, I'll see what I can find out. And don't worry, there'll be other jobs."

"I know." I hate that my voice quivers.

"Isabella, is everything okay?"

"It's Robyn now, remember?" My laugh sounds phony to my own ears. A fist squeezes my chest and I have to swallow hard to get the raw emotions back under my control. At least I win the battle with my tears. "On my way home from the interview, I had a minor fender bender and the asshole pulled a gun on me. It shook me up a little." Enough to have a meltdown in a supermarket over a few dropped oranges.

"Fuck, that's not good. Did you get his license plate?"

"It's fine, E. I don't want you to get involved."

"You sure? I'd take me one phone call."

"I know, but it might draw attention to me. Please, just let it go." My mind scrambles to change the subject to avoid reliving the embarrassing moment in the produce aisle. "Speaking of jobs, the US Attorney's Office has an opening."

E snorts out a laugh. "Not sure if that's a good idea. These people try big, public cases, and you might find yourself on television."

"Well, sometimes, it's best to hide in plain sight. Plus imagine all the insider info I would be privy to."

"That's true, and ultimately, it's your decision. Just remember, you aren't an actual lawyer, so don't get busted."

I can wing it. The internet is a wonderful resource and how hard can it be to plea bargain cases? "Need to go now. Xavier and I are baking a cake."

"No problem. Keep me posted on the job hunt, and I'll let you know if I find out anything about the trace on my end."

I cut the call and toss the cell phone on the bed. Walking to the window, I let my gaze roam over the trees that frame the boundaries of Central Park. The soft hum of traffic drifts up from the street below and I rest my forehead against the cool glass. Compared to what I'm used to, New York has been freezing. A cold wind and days of rain, but that's nothing to the iciness and indifference of the people. It sucks. Xavier and I have lived here for less than two weeks and we're already homesick like crazy.

Not that I should be complaining.

E set us up in a spacious condo right on 5th Avenue and provided us with sufficient funds to live like royalty. The new identities are solid and Lucas will never find us. I'm still sick to my stomach. So many unknown dangers lurk in this hostile country and I feel utterly unprepared. And that I missed the interview will only prolong matters.

I eye the laptop I tossed on the bed when I got up this morning.

Should I go for it?

I might as well.

Firing up the computer, I find the description for the job with the US Attorney's Office I bookmarked a few days ago. I flip to my notebook to get to the page with the new identity information. Robyn Joy Sinclair is now familiar enough that I no longer misspell the first name, but I have to double check the date of birth and social security number.

Are you a member of the federal bar in at least one US State?

I click "yes" and add California in the space provided. Typing the name of a law school I never set foot in, I set my graduation date to three years ago. Chat GPT gives me an answer to why I'm applying to this particular job and I fill in the names of a few bogus references who will praise me for my legal skills and impeccable work ethic. For a breath, I let the cursor hover over the button, but then I click submit. I have nothing to lose.

A knock on the door has me close the laptop.

"Mom, I squeezed the oranges. Should I start measuring the other ingredients?"

"Not without me." Opening the door, I smile. "No way you're gonna bake your own birthday cake all by yourself."

"What are we gonna have for dinner?"

"I was thinking tacos, but we can have something else, if you'd like."

"No, tacos sound great."

"And we could play chess after dinner."

Xavier's excited chatter about a new movie he's dying to see soothes more of the turmoil that keeps me wired these days and by the time I slide the cake into the oven, the foul taste left in my mouth from the rotten day has been washed down with a tall glass of Merlot. I can even breathe without the pain that usually aches in my chest. Pricking my ears, I pick up the faint sound from the ringtone of my cell.

Shit, I left the phone on the bed. I sprint into my room and connect the call.

The unfamiliar voice of a man fills my ear. "Is this Robyn Sinclair?"

"Yes, this is her."

"My name is Gordon Mullins, and I'm a US Attorney with the Eastern District of New York. Your job application just came across my desk and I was wondering when you could come in for an interview."

It appears that Robyn is harboring many secrets. What's you best guess? Why do you think she changed her identity and came to New York, pretending to be a lawyer? And where is all the money coming from?

I hope this chapter got you drooling for more and I would love if you could share your thoughts in the comments (plus don't forget to vote if the chapter deserved it). Thanks for reading!