Emily's pulse pounded in her ears. The footsteps were getting closer, deliberate and heavy, echoing off the narrow walls.
She clutched Ethan's hand tighter, whispering desperately, "God… I need Your direction. Now."
Her mind spun through the options:
Run for help? She'd have to leave him here, bleeding.
Hide? They might find them anyway.
Confront whoever it was? That thought felt like insanity — she was a girl who got nervous ordering food at a café.
Ethan groaned faintly, his head shifting against her shoulder. The sound seemed to pull her decision out of her.
She hooked her arms under his and started dragging him toward a rusted metal door half-hidden in shadow. The footsteps quickened.
"Come on, please," she gasped, more to God than to him.
The door gave way with a screech, and they stumbled inside — into darkness. She eased him against the wall, biting her lip hard to keep from crying out.
Through a thin crack in the door, she saw them. Two men in dark jackets, scanning the alley like predators. One of them had a gun in his hand, the streetlight glinting off the metal.
Her breath caught. She pressed a trembling hand over her mouth, praying the pounding in her chest wasn't loud enough for them to hear.
Minutes crawled by before they moved on, their shadows melting into the night.
Emily's legs nearly gave out from the relief. She turned to Ethan — and froze when she felt the heat radiating off him. Fever. Bad.
She took his phone from his limp fingers, intending to call for help… but the screen was still unlocked, showing a string of recent messages. She didn't mean to read them — but her eyes caught on a name.
Luca — Boss.
And beneath it, the latest text:
> "You were told to lay low in America. Do I need to remind you what happens if you don't?"
Her stomach turned cold. She didn't understand all of it… but she understood enough.
The man she'd been sharing ice cream with — the one who'd carried her suitcase like it weighed nothing — was in something far darker than she'd ever imagined.
And now, she was part of it.
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