Maya's POV
The coffee pot slipped from my hands and shattered across the diner floor.
"Maya!" Rosie's voice cut through the morning rush. "That's the third one this week!"
I stared at the broken pieces, my hands shaking. Just like everything else in my life—one wrong move and it all falls apart.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, dropping to my knees. The hot coffee soaked through my jeans, but I barely felt it. I couldn't stop thinking about the envelope I'd found in my mailbox this morning. The one with no return address. The one with Derek's handwriting.
He found us.
"Honey, are you okay?" Rosie knelt beside me, her weathered hand touching my shoulder. "You've been jumpy all morning."
I forced a smile, the kind I'd practiced a thousand times. "I'm fine. Just tired."
Liar. I was terrified.
I'd been hiding in Pine Valley for two years, using my mother's maiden name—Rodriguez instead of Martinez. Two years of looking over my shoulder. Two years of teaching my daughter Lucy to never talk to strangers. Two years of building a life where Derek couldn't find us.
And now this morning, that envelope. Inside was a picture of Lucy at her school playground, taken yesterday. On the back, Derek had written: She's gotten so big. I miss my family.
My stomach twisted. He was here. In Pine Valley. Watching us.
"Take five," Rosie said gently. "Go splash some water on your face."
I nodded and stood up, nearly tripping over the broken ceramic. The other waitresses shot me worried looks as I stumbled toward the bathroom. Through the diner windows, I could see Pine Valley's main street covered in Christmas lights and fake snow. Happy families walked hand-in-hand, carrying shopping bags and singing carols.
I wanted to scream at them. Didn't they know that Christmas wasn't magical? That it was just another day when bad things happened while everyone pretended everything was perfect?
In the bathroom, I gripped the sink and stared at my reflection. Dark circles under my eyes. Hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. At twenty-nine, I looked forty. Derek had stolen my youth, my hope, my ability to trust anyone.
My phone buzzed. Unknown number.
My heart stopped.
Don't ignore me, Maya. I just want to talk. I've changed. Lucy deserves to know her father.
I threw the phone into my purse like it was a snake. Changed? Derek didn't change. He was a monster who smiled while he hurt you, who made you think every bruise was your fault, who destroyed everything good in your life.
When I returned to the floor, the lunch rush had started. I moved through my tables like a robot, taking orders, bringing food, refilling coffee. My mind was somewhere else, making plans. Should I run again? Where would we go? I barely had enough money for rent.
"Mommy!"
Lucy's voice made me spin around. My six-year-old daughter burst through the diner door, her pink backpack bouncing. Mrs. Chen, our neighbor who watched Lucy after school, hurried behind her.
"Lucy, what—"
"There was a man!" Lucy's eyes were wide with excitement, not fear. She didn't understand danger yet. I'd kept her innocent. "He gave me a present! Look!"
She held up a small wrapped box with a red bow.
Ice flooded my veins.
"What man?" My voice came out sharp. Too sharp. Several customers turned to look.
"He said he was an old friend," Mrs. Chen explained, breathless. "He approached us outside the hardware store. I tried to stop him, but—"
I grabbed the box from Lucy's hands. "Did he tell you his name?"
"He said to tell Mommy that old friends never forget," Lucy said, confused by my reaction. "Mommy, why are you mad? It's almost Christmas!"
The box felt heavy. Wrong. I tore off the wrapping paper, my hands shaking so badly I could barely grip it.
Inside was a snow globe.
Not just any snow globe. The exact one Derek had given me on our first Christmas together, before everything went bad. Before the yelling. Before the hitting. Before I learned that love could be a prison.
I turned it over. Engraved on the bottom: Come home, Maya. We're waiting.
"Mommy?" Lucy tugged my sleeve. "What's wrong? Don't you like it?"
The diner spun around me. He'd touched my daughter. He'd been close enough to hand her something. Close enough to take her.
"Maya, you're white as a ghost," Rosie said. "Sit down before you fall down."
But I couldn't sit. I couldn't breathe. I had to get Lucy somewhere safe. I had to—
The bell above the diner door chimed.
A man walked in, and my entire world stopped.
Dark hair. Broad shoulders. That smile I'd once loved more than anything.
But it wasn't Derek.
It was Jake Sullivan.
My high school sweetheart. The boy I'd disappeared on ten years ago without explanation. The one person who'd made me believe in good men before Derek taught me they didn't exist.
Jake's eyes found mine across the crowded diner, and his smile faded. He'd always been able to read me like a book.
"Maya?" His voice was deeper than I remembered, rougher. Ten years of living had changed him from a boy into a man. His firefighter uniform made him look strong, capable. Safe.
Everything I wasn't.
"Jake," I breathed.
Lucy looked between us curiously. "Mommy, who's that?"
Before I could answer, my phone buzzed again. Another text from the unknown number.
Look outside.
My blood turned to ice. Slowly, I turned toward the diner window.
Across the street, parked in front of the post office, was Derek's black car. The same one from our marriage. And standing beside it, staring directly at me with that cold smile I knew too well, was my ex-husband.
He lifted his hand and waved.
Then he held up a postcard—white with red writing—and pressed it against his car window so I could read it.
Even from this distance, I could make out the message: MERRY CHRISTMAS, MAYA. LET'S TALK ABOUT CUSTODY.
The snow globe slipped from my fingers and exploded on the floor, sending tiny glass snowflakes across the diner.
And as I stood frozen, watching my worst nightmare smile at me across a street full of Christmas shoppers, I realized something terrible:
Derek wasn't just here to talk.
He was here to take Lucy.
And there was nothing I could do to stop him.
