Unbroken

A month later, Katelynn lies in bed with the children when a loud knock slams against the front door. The sound rattles through the house. Her heart jumps into her throat. Her panic attacks have been getting worse, fueled by a constant fear that something bad is coming. Strange things have been happening around the house, noises at night, cars slowing down outside, shadows where there should be none.

She pulls herself out of bed and walks to the door, her legs unsteady. When she opens it, she freezes. Six men stand outside, some near the porch, others leaning against their cars. Their engines idle softly, filling the air with exhaust and tension.

The biggest one steps forward. “Is Lamar here?”

“No,” Katelynn says quickly. “We broke up.”

He narrows his eyes. “Someone said he lives here. Don’t lie to me.”

“He isn’t here,” she says, her voice shaking despite her effort to steady it. “It’s just me and my children.”

“Then where would he be?” the man asks.

“I don’t know. We broke up.”

The man takes a step closer. “Don’t lie to me, or I’ll have to come back. Lamar owes me money, and I’ll get it one way or another.”

Katelynn starts to close the door, her hands trembling. “Like I said, he’s not here.”

“Do I need to come in and check?” he asks.

“No,” she says firmly, fear burning in her chest.

The man glances back at the others. “Let’s go.”

Before turning away, he looks at her again. “Since y’all broke up, maybe we can talk.”

Katelynn shuts the door and locks it, her hands shaking as she leans against it for a moment. Then she rushes back to the bedroom, where her children are now awake. She gathers them close, holding them tightly, listening to the sound of cars pulling away and praying they never come back.

—

Months pass. Katelynn is seven months pregnant now, her body heavy with exhaustion. She stands in the living room folding clothes, one hand bracing her lower back, the phone tucked between her ear and shoulder as she talks to an old classmate.

“Yeah, girl,” Katelynn says, forcing a small laugh. “I’m ready for this baby to get here.”

“Is it a boy or a girl?” the woman asks.

“Another boy.”

“Are you done after this one?”

“Yeah,” Katelynn says quietly. “I was supposed to be done after the last one.”

A sudden, loud knock slams against the back door.

Her heart drops.

Something about it feels wrong. Too aggressive. Too deliberate. Instinct takes over. Katelynn drops the clothes, grabs her babies, and rushes down the hall to her bedroom. She locks the door, then slips into the walk in closet and shuts it behind her, pulling the door closed with her shoulder.

“Call the police,” she whispers urgently into the phone.

She hangs up and dials 911 herself. “Someone has broken into my home,” she says, her voice shaking. She gives the address and disconnects.

She can hear them moving through the house. Heavy footsteps. Drawers being opened. Items hitting the floor. The noise gets closer. Then the bedroom door handle rattles. It does not open.

A hard kick slams into the door. Then another. The door splinters and crashes inward.

Katelynn clutches her babies tighter.

A large man steps into the room. Before she can react, he reaches down and yanks her little girl from her arms.

“No!” Katelynn screams, stumbling forward. “Give me back my child.”

“I told you I’d be back for my money,” the man says calmly. “Lamar went ghost, so we’re holding his daughter until he pays.”

“This is stupid,” Katelynn shouts. “I’m the full time parent. He’s barely around. You think taking my child is going to work? Hell no.”

She charges him again, desperation fueling her strength. He elbows her hard in the face. Blood immediately pours from her nose.

“Where’s the baby bag?” he snaps.

“You’re not taking my baby anywhere!” she yells.

“Find Lamar,” he says, tightening his grip on the child, “and you can keep her.”

“I’m not making any deals with you,” Katelynn says.

She darts back into the closet and grabs a metal bat and a can of pepper spray. She points them at him, her hands shaking but steady enough. “Get out of my house.”

He turns as if to leave, her daughter still in his arms.

“My baby,” Katelynn cries.

Before she can think, she swings.

The bat connects with the back of his head. There is a sharp crack. The man stumbles, loses his footing, and tumbles backward down the porch stairs.

Katelynn runs to her daughter, scoops her up, and bolts back into the house. She slams the door shut and locks it, pressing her body against it, clutching her child as sirens begin to wail in the distance.

She stays there, shaking, until the police arrive.

A sudden noise behind her snaps Katelynn’s attention back to the bedroom. Another man is there. Before she can react, he grabs her son and runs. Katelynn chases him, her body heavy and slow, panic burning through her veins, but she cannot keep up. By the time she reaches the front door, he is already speeding away.

She forces herself to focus. She memorizes the license plate as the car disappears down the street.

Police sirens arrive moments later. “He has my child!” Katelynn screams, giving them the license plate number. “Go!”

One officer jumps back into his car and takes off after the suspect, calling for backup. Another stays with Katelynn, getting her statement. An ambulance is called for the injured man lying outside.

“Please,” Katelynn says through broken breaths. “Call Chief Stewart. He knows me.”

Sharp contractions grip her abdomen. She sinks to the floor with her daughter, pressing her hand to her stomach, trying to slow her breathing.

She calls her mother. “They took my son.”

“I’m on my way,” Nora says, keeping her voice steady despite the fear creeping in. “Who did this?”

“People Lamar owes money to,” Katelynn says between sobs. “They said they’re keeping my son until he pays. They tried to take my daughter first. I feel so helpless. I gave them the license plate. I hit one of them. I think my nose is broken.”

“I’ll call you when I get in the car,” Nora says softly.

Minutes later, Chief Stewart arrives as EMTs work to stop the bleeding from Katelynn’s nose. He crouches in front of her. “I’m sorry, Katelynn. I should have protected you better. We are going to find your son. They’re on the interstate now. There’s an active pursuit, and our priority is getting him home safely.”

He looks toward the injured man being loaded into an ambulance. “You really messed up, Carlos,” the chief says coldly. “You better pray that her son comes home unharmed.”

“I’ll call it off,” Carlos mutters.

Katelynn looks at him desperately. “Please.”

Carlos pulls out his phone. “Let the boy go,” he says into it, then hangs up. “It’s done. Can you take me to the hospital now? My head is split.”

“You need more than that,” the chief replies.

By the time Nora arrives, nearly an hour later, there is still no update. Chief Stewart is constantly on the phone, speaking in low, urgent tones. Katelynn’s fear grows unbearable.

“Do you need to go to the hospital?” the chief asks gently.

“No,” Katelynn says. “I need to be here when they bring my son back.”

“They crossed into another state,” he says carefully. “We’ve issued an alert. We’re doing everything we can.”

Katelynn collapses into sobs. Nora tries to comfort her, but nothing helps. She takes her granddaughter into the kitchen to fix her some juice, needing a moment to breathe.

Time passes with no word.

Katelynn cries herself to sleep.

The next morning, Lamar texts, What’s going on? When Katelynn tries to call, he ignores it and replies, Just text me.

She gives Chief Stewart Lamar’s number. The chief calls him, and Lamar answers. “What’s up, boss?”

“You know your son is missing,” the chief says firmly, “and everyone is here except you. Why is that?”

Lamar stammers.

“Get here now,” the chief snaps. “Help us get your child home. And don’t pretend you didn’t know Carlos would come looking for his money.”

He hangs up.

Katelynn feels hollow, imagining the worst while praying for the best.

Hours later, a man matching the description is spotted at a gas station in North Carolina with a child. Police respond quickly and detain him. He claims to be the boy’s father and appears genuinely confused. His family, including his wife, confirms his identity.

When they compare photos, they realize the child is not Katelynn’s son.

They release him.

Chief Stewart does not tell Katelynn. It was a long shot, and he cannot break her again.

More hours pass. Finally, the chief returns to the house. “We’ve reached the twenty four hour mark,” he says quietly. “At this point, it changes from a rescue to a recovery. I hate saying that, but with children, time matters.”

Katelynn sobs. “Please don’t give up.”

“I’m not,” he says. “But you need medical care. Your nose is broken, and they need to check the baby.”

Nora nods. “Let’s go.”

They take Katelynn to the nearby hospital. She is admitted to the maternity ward, monitored for contractions while a doctor sets her nose. Pain medication finally pulls her under.

Nora sits beside the bed, her granddaughter asleep in her lap. She rubs Katelynn’s hand gently as her daughter sleeps.

“Everything,” Nora whispers, “will be alright.”