Chapter 7: A Hunt in the Fog**
The rain began to fall in heavy, blinding sheets as Marcus guided Clara through the dense pine woods bordering the estate.
Behind them, the estate’s high-powered halogen floodlights suddenly flared to life, casting long, monstrous shadows across the tree line. The sharp, rhythmic barks of security hounds tore through the damp night air.
"They know you’re gone," Marcus said, keeping a firm grip on Clara’s arm to keep her from slipping on the muddy slope. "Keep your head down."
Clara’s heart pounded violently against her ribs. Every step sent a jolt of pain through her swollen ankles, but the maternal instinct within her burned brighter than any physical discomfort. She wrapped both arms tightly around her stomach, whispering silent prayers with every breath.
Up ahead, through the mist-shrouded trees, the faint yellow headlights of a truck appeared on the old access road.
"Is that Julian?" Clara asked, hope flaring in her chest.
"No," Marcus said, stopping dead in his tracks. He pulled Clara behind the broad trunk of an ancient oak tree.
The vehicle was an unmarked black SUV. The driver stepped out into the rain, wearing a sheriff's badge and a heavy tactical jacket. It was Sheriff Bradley. Standing beside him was Richard Vance, holding a sleek umbrella and an unlit cigar.
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"Find her," Richard’s voice carried over the sound of the rain. "She’s pregnant and on foot. She couldn't have made it past the creek. Bring her back to the library. No cameras, no witnesses."
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