I took what little money I had saved. Maybe $300. That was it. That was all I had in the world. She wrapped her arms around herself like she was cold. It was raining that night. Hard, heavy rain. I didn’t have a car. We only had one car and you had taken it to work. So I walked. I walked for miles in the rain carrying my bag trying to figure out where to go.
Nathan wanted to say something, but his throat felt too tight, so he just listened. I finally made it to the bus station downtown. Evelyn continued, “I was going to buy a ticket to anywhere, anywhere far away. I didn’t care where. I just needed to get away from your mother, away from everything.” She turned to look at Nathan. Her face was so sad it made his heart hurt.
But I never made it inside the bus station, she said. Because when I was crossing the parking lot, a car pulled up next to me. A black car with dark windows. Nathan’s stomach dropped. Your mother stepped out of that car, Evelyn said. And she had two men with her. Big men. They looked like security guards or bodyguards or something.
She walked right up to me in the rain and said, “I told you I gave you a chance. Now we do this the hard way.” Evelyn’s voice started shaking. The men grabbed me, she said. I tried to scream, but one of them put his hand over my mouth. They took my bag. They pushed me into the car and they drove. Where? Nathan asked, his voice barely a whisper. Where did they take you? To an old warehouse on the edge of town, Evelyn said.
It was empty and dark and far away from everything. Your mother took me inside. She had another car there, an old beatup car that looked like it was ready to fall apart. Evelyn’s eyes filled with tears again. She told me, “Get in that car. Drive it to the old bridge on Highway 40. Park it there.
Leave everything, your ID, your wallet, your phone, everything that says who you are. Then walk away and never come back. If you do this, I’ll give you money. Enough to start over. But if you don’t, well, accidents happen.” Nathan felt sick. Really truly sick. She threatened you. She did more than threaten me. Evelyn said she made it very clear.
If I didn’t disappear on my own, she would make me disappear permanently and she made sure I understood. She would make it look like an accident. No one would ever question it. And you? You would never know the truth. So, what did you do? Nathan asked, though he was afraid to hear the answer. I was terrified, Evelyn said. I was pregnant, alone, trapped.
What choice did I have? So, I did what she said. I got in that old car. I drove to Highway 40 to that old bridge. She closed her eyes, remembering it was still raining. The road was dark and slippery. When I got to the bridge, I parked the car like she told me to. I left my wallet, my phone, my ID, everything. I got out of the car. And then what happened? Nathan asked. Evelyn opened her eyes.
They were full of tears and pain. Then your mother’s men came back, she said. They drove up in another car. They got out and I watched them pour gasoline all over that old car. The car I had just been sitting in. Nathan’s hands started shaking. They set it on fire, Evelyn whispered. Right there on the bridge. The whole car went up in flames.
I could feel the heat from where I was standing. I could smell the smoke. It was It was horrible. But you weren’t in it, Nathan said, trying to understand. You got out first. Yes, Evelyn said. But anyone who found that car would think I was. My wallet was in there, my ID, my phone, everything that proved I was Evelyn Martinez Cole. Everything burned. She looked at Nathan with eyes that had seen too much pain.
Your mother drove up one more time, Evelyn said. She rolled down her window and threw an envelope at my feet. Then she said, “You’re dead now, Evelyn. Officially dead. That’s what the police will think. That’s what my son will think.
And if you ever try to come back, if you ever try to contact Nathan, if you ever try to tell anyone the truth, I’ll make sure you really do die. And I’ll make sure that baby dies, too. Nathan felt like he was going to throw up or pass out or both. Then she drove away, Evelyn said, and left me there pregnant alone in the rain with nothing but the clothes on my back and an envelope with $5,000 in it. 5,000? Nathan repeated. That’s all she gave you? That’s all I was worth to her,” Evelyn said bitterly.
” $5,000 to disappear forever. To let her son think I was dead. To raise his child alone and never tell him the truth.” Nathan sat down heavily in one of the kitchen chairs. His whole body felt weak. I didn’t know what to do. Evelyn continued, “I was scared, traumatized.
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