They released her with a court summons. Theft charges pending.
Outside, the sun was setting. Lucia walked home to her tiny apartment across town. Her phone buzzed constantly. Neighbors. Former employers. Everyone had heard.
One text stood out: Don’t come back. You’re fired. – D. Aldridge
She sat on her bed and cried. Not for the job. For Noah.
Three days later, the doorbell rang.
Noah stood there, alone, holding a crumpled drawing. “I walked here. It took an hour.”
“Noah!” Lucia pulled him inside. “Does your father know?”
“No. But I don’t care.” He thrust the drawing at her. “It’s us. I drew us.”
Two stick figures holding hands. One tall, one small.
“I know you didn’t steal anything,” Noah said. “Grandma’s lying.”
“Sweetheart, you can’t say that—”
“It’s true! I saw something.”
Lucia knelt down. “What did you see?”
“I woke up to get water. It was really late. I saw Grandma in the jewelry room. She was holding something shiny and she said…” He frowned, concentrating. “‘Lucia will be an easy target.’”
Lucia’s breath caught. “You heard her say my name?”
“Yes. Then she saw me and said I was dreaming. But I wasn’t.”
“Noah, did you tell your father?”