Chapter 69: Anastasia

Five hours later, the sedan is parked half a block down from the academy, tucked beneath the shadow of a sprawling oak tree. Inside it, the only sound is the quiet hum of the heater and the soft rustle of my own movements as I search my bag.

I am looking for my phone to check the GPS coordinates of the kids' trackers. My fingers brush past my wallet, past a packet of tissues, and hit a soft, rubberized strap.

My heart misses a beat.

I pull my hand out of the bag. Resting in my palm is the small, pink location-bound watch we bought for Luna...