Maya's POV
I didn't open the door.
Instead, I grabbed a chair from the kitchen and shoved it under the lock. My hands shook so badly that I could barely hold them steady. "Maya." The man's voice came through the door, sing-song and mocking. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be. We just want to have a conversation." "Go away!" I shouted. "I'm calling the cops!"
Laughter. Cold and mean. "Go ahead. Call them. We'll be gone before they come. But we'll come back, Maya. And next time, we won't be so nice."
I heard footsteps moving away. Then silence.
I stood frozen, looking at the door, waiting for them to break it down. But nothing happened. Minutes passed. Five. Ten. They were really gone.
My legs gave out, and I slid down the wall, falling hard on the floor. I couldn't breathe right. Couldn't think straight. Vale's men had been here. At our place. At midnight.
This was real. This was actually happening.
I looked at Dad's bedroom door, still closed and locked. He had to have heard the knocking. Had to have heard me yelling. But he hadn't come out. Hadn't tried to help.
Rage boiled up inside me, hot and fierce.
I stood up, marched to his door, and pounded on it with both hands. "Open this door right now!"
Nothing. "I said open it!"
I heard movement inside. The lock clicked. The door opened a crack, and Dad peered out, his eyes bloodshot and scared. "They're gone?" he whispered. "Yeah, they're gone. No thanks to you!" I shoved the door open all the way. "You hid in here while those men threatened me!" "I'm sorry. I was scared. I didn't know what to" "You're always scared! You're always sorry!" I was screaming now, but I didn't care. "When are you going to actually do something? When are you going to be a real father?"
Dad flinched as I'd hit him. "Maya, please." "No! I'm done, please! I'm done with sorry!" I grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the living room. "Sit down. Right now. We're going to talk about this, and you're not running away."
He stumbled to the couch and sat. I stood over him, my whole body shaking with anger. "Tell me everything," I said. "And I mean everything. No more lies."
Dad put his face in his hands. "I don't know where to start." "Start with the money. You said it was for Mom's medical bills. Was that true?"
Silence. "Dad!" "Yes," he said finally. "At first, it was true. The bills were so high, Maya. The chemo, the radiation, the drugs that insurance wouldn't cover. I borrowed twenty thousand dollars to pay for her last round of treatment."
My anger faltered for just a second. Mom's treatment. He'd really done it for Mom. "But twenty thousand isn't one hundred and fifty thousand," I said. "No." Dad looked up at me, his face wet with tears. "After your mother died, I couldn't handle it. The grief. The guilt. I started going to the casino just to get away from the place. Away from the memories." "And you lost money." "At first, I won! I won five thousand dollars in one night. I thought I thought it was a sign. That I could pay back the loan and have extra." He laughed bitterly. "But then I kept playing. And losing. And borrowing more to try to win it back." "The life insurance money," I whispered. "The three thousand dollars I gave you. You said you'd use it to catch up on rent."
Dad wouldn't look at me. "I was going to. I swear I was. But I thought if I could just double it first. "You gambled Mom's life insurance money?" The words came out like a scream. "I dropped out of college to help pay those hospital bills! I did double shifts at the bookstore! And you took the only money Mom left us and threw it away on cards and slot machines?" "I'm sick, Maya! Gambling addiction is a real" Don't you dare!" I grabbed a pillow from the couch and threw it at him. "Don't you dare use addiction as an excuse! You had choices! You could have gone to talks! You could have asked for help! Instead, you kept borrowing from crooks, and now they're coming after us!" "I know! Don't you think I know that?" Dad stood up, swaying slightly. I could smell alcohol on him. "I hate myself for this! I hate what I've become!" "Then do something about it! Fix it!" "I can't! The bill is too big! There's no way to" That man on the phone mentioned someone," I interrupted. "Ezra Blackwell. He said Blackwell wants to pay your bill if I work for him. What do you know about that?"
Dad's face went pale. "How do you know when Vale calls you?" "Answer the question!" "Blackwell approached me two days ago," Dad said softly. "He showed up here with Vale. Said he'd heard about our situation and wanted to make an offer." "What kind of offer?" "He'll pay everything. All one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Clear the debt completely." Dad sat back down heavily. "In return, you work at his estate for one year. He needs someone to sort his files and help with research." "That's it? Just office work?" "That's what he said."
I studied Dad's face. He was lying. Or at least not telling me everything. "Why me specifically? Thousands of people could do office work. Why does he want me?" "I don't know." "You're lying." "I'm not! He just said you had the right qualifications." "What qualifications? I'm a shop clerk who dropped out of college! I have no special skills!"
Dad rubbed his face. "He said you were smart. Resourceful. That you'd be great for the job."
"How does he even know I exist?" "I don't know, Maya! Maybe Vale told him about you! Maybe he did research!" Dad's voice rose. "Does it matter? He's offering us a way out!" "A way out for you, you mean. I'm the one who has to go work for some creepy rich guy on a mountain!" "It's not like that." "Then what is it like?" I moved closer, getting right in his face. "Tell me the truth. What do you know about Ezra Blackwell?"
Dad looked away. "He's a director. Does films. People say he's bright but strange. Very private. He only comes back to Pinewood Falls during the holidays." "Why?" "I don't know. Nobody knows much about him. He keeps to himself." "And you're okay with sending me to live with a stranger? A man nobody knows anything about?" "I don't have a choice!" "You always have a choice!" I grabbed the debt notice from the coffee table and shoved it in his face. "You chose to bet! You chose to borrow from crooks! You chose to put Lily and me down as security! Every step of the way, you picked yourself!" "That's not fair." "Fair?" I laughed, but it came out like a sob. "You want to talk about fair? I gave up college for you! I gave up my dreams, my future, everything! And you couldn't even stay clean long enough to not destroy our lives!"
Dad started crying. Real, ugly crying with his shoulders shaking. Part of me wanted to comfort him. The part that still remembered when he was a good father, before Mom got sick, before everything fell apart.
But a bigger part of me just felt empty. "I'm going to call Blackwell tomorrow," I said quietly. "I'm going to hear his offer straight. And if it means keeping Lily safe, I'll do it. But not for you. Never for you." "Maya," "I'm done talking. I'm going to bed."
I turned and walked toward my room, but Dad's voice stopped me. "Your mother would be so ashamed of me," he whispered.
I looked back at him, this broken man on the couch who used to be my father. "Yeah," I said. "She would be."
I went to my room and locked the door. For a long time, I just sat on my bed, looking at nothing. Then I noticed the small box on my nightstand, the one where I kept Mom's things. Her reading glasses. Her best bracelet. A few shots.
I opened it and pulled out the pictures. Mom is happy on her wedding day. Mom is holding baby Lily at the hospital. Mom and I at my high school graduation.
In every picture, she looked happy. But now that I really looked, I could see something else in her eyes. Something sad. Like she was carrying a weight nobody else could see. "What were you running from, Mom?" I whispered to the picture. "What were you so afraid of?"
My phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number.
Tomorrow, 2 PM. Corner of Main and Oak. Come alone. We need to talk about your father's debt before things get ugly. - M. Vale
My blood turned to ice. Marcus Vale wanted to meet me. Tomorrow.
I was about to text back when another message came through. Different number.
Don't meet with Vale. It's a trap. If you want real information about your father's debt and why I chose you, come to Frost Manor tomorrow at 2 PM instead. The gate will be open. - E. Blackwell
I stared at both messages, my heart racing.
Two men. Two talks. At the same time.
One was a loan shark who might hurt me. The other was a mystery stranger who wanted to buy a year of my life.
I had to choose.
But before I could decide, a third letter appeared. A picture, no words.
It was me leaving the shop tonight. Taken from across the street, possibly an hour ago.
Someone had been following me.
A fourth message: Choose wisely, Maya. Your sister's safety rests on it.
I dropped the phone as it had burned me.
They knew where Lily was. They were threatening her.
I grabbed the phone again with shaking hands and called Lily. It rang and rang and rang.
No answer.
I called again. Still nothing.
Panic flooded through me. I texted: Lily, call me right now. Emergency.
Three minutes passed. Five. Ten.
Finally, my phone rang. "Maya? What's wrong? It's almost one in the morning. "Are you okay?" I interrupted. "Are you safe? Is anyone following you?" "What? Maya, you're freaking me out. I'm fine. I'm in my college room studying." "Lock your door. Right now." "Why? What's happening?" "Just do it! Please!"
I heard moving, then a lock clicking. "Okay, it's locked. Now tell me what's going on."
I wanted to tell her everything. About the debt, about Dad's gambling, about the guys who came to our apartment. But I couldn't. Not yet. If I told her, she'd come home. She'd try to help. And that would put her in even more danger. "Nothing," I lied. "I just had a nightmare. About you. I needed to make sure you were okay." "A nightmare? Maya, that's not like you." "I know. I'm sorry. I'm just stressed about work. Go back to learning. I'll call you tomorrow." "Are you sure everything's?" "I'm sure. Love you. Bye."
I hung up before she could ask more questions.
My hands wouldn't stop shaking. Someone was watching me. Watching Lily. They had pictures. They knew where we lived, where we went, everything.
I looked at Blackwell's message again. Come to Frost Manor tomorrow at 2 PM. The gate will be open.
I no longer had a choice.
I had to go.
But as I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, one question kept running through my mind: Why would Ezra Blackwell know that Vale was going to meet me tomorrow?
Unless they were working together.