Maya's POV
I screamed.
The sound that came out of me was raw and wild, tearing from my throat like something alive. Ezra grabbed me before I could run to the door, before I could throw myself at the lock and rush upstairs to save a man who was already dead. "Let me go!" I fought him, scratching and kicking. "We have to help him! We have to. "He's gone, Maya." Ezra's voice broke. "He's gone." "No! You don't know that! Maybe they missed, maybe" They didn't miss." Ezra held me tighter as I fell against him, sobbing. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
On the screen, Vale's men pulled Elijah's body away. I couldn't watch but couldn't look away. This was my fault. If I hadn't come here, if I hadn't lived, Elijah would still be alive. "This isn't your fault," Ezra said, like he could read my mind. "Don't you dare think that. This is on them. On Vale. On whoever hired him. On your father, who sold you out."
Dad. The word hit me like ice water. Dad had done this. He'd known these people would come. They knew they wanted to kill us. And he'd sent me here anyway. "Why?" I whispered. "Why would he do this?"
Ezra finally let me go. He moved to a laptop in the corner and started typing furiously. "I don't know. But we're going to find out." "What are you doing?" "Accessing the backup servers. All our files are saved off-site in case something like this happened." His fingers flew across the keys. "If your father was working with Vale, there has to be a record. A payment. Something."
I wiped my eyes and moved closer. The screen was filled with papers, emails, and bank records. Ezra searched through them at lightning speed. "There," he said suddenly, pointing. December 1st. A wire payment to Robert Chen for fifty thousand dollars. Sender: V. Enterprises." "Vale paid him." My voice was hollow. "Before any of this started. Before the debt notice." "Keep looking." Ezra scrolled down. November 15th. Another payment. Twenty thousand. October 20th. Ten thousand." He sat back, his face pale. "Vale's been paying your father for months. This wasn't about debt. The debt was just the excuse." "Excuse for what?" "To give to us. To make sure you came to Frost Manor." Ezra pulled up another file. "Look at this. An email from your father to Vale dated three weeks ago. 'She suspects nothing. Will make sure she arrives on schedule.'"
The words blurred through my tears. "He's been planning this for months. Setting me up." "Not just you." Ezra opened more files. "Your father sent Vale our secret codes. Our plans. Everything we needed to stay hidden. He gave them a map of the house, the location of the panic room." His voice turned cold. "He told them exactly how to kill us."
I was going to be sick. Actually sick. I stumbled to a trash can in the corner and threw up everything in my stomach. "Why?" I asked when I could speak again. "Why would he help them kill his own daughter?" "Money." Ezra pulled up another paper. "They promised him two million dollars when this was over. Two million to hurt everyone he was supposed to love."
Two million dollars. That's what my life was worth to Dad. That's what Elijah's life had been worth. "We have to get out of here," I said. "We have to"
A blast rocked the panic room.
The lights flickered. Dust rained from the roof. Another blast, closer this time. "They're breaching the door," Ezra said grimly. He moved to a weapons locker on the wall and pulled out another gun. "They must have brought bombs. The door will stay for a while, but not forever." "How long?" "Ten minutes. Maybe fifteen." He gave me a knife. "Can you use this?"
I stared at the blade. "To cut veggies, yeah. To stab a person? I don't. If someone comes through that door who isn't me, you kill them. Don't think. Don't pause. Just do it." His gray eyes were fierce. "Promise me."
I nodded, my hand shaking as I took the knife.
Another explosion. Louder. The metal door groaned under the pressure. "There has to be another way out," I said desperately. "A vent. A tunnel. Something." "There's nothing. This room was designed to" Ezra stopped. His eyes widened. "Wait. There might be something." "What?"
He ran to the far wall and started pressing on panels. "When Elijah and I built this house, we argued about the panic room. I wanted a getaway tunnel. He said it was a security risk if we could get out, someone else could get in. We compromised." "Compromised how?" "We built a tunnel, but filled it with concrete. Made it useless." He pressed another panel, and it clicked, swinging open to show a small crawlspace. "But we ran out of concrete about halfway through. The last thirty feet of the tunnel are empty. It leads to the woods behind the house."
Hope flared in my chest. "So we can escape?" "If we can dig through fifty feet of concrete first." He looked at me, and I saw the truth in his eyes. "We can't. Not in fifteen minutes. Not with what we have here."
The door groaned again. Metal screaming. They were getting through. "Then what do we do?"
Ezra was quiet for a long moment. Then he pulled out his phone and started recording a video. "My name is Ezra Blackwell," he said to the camera. "If you're watching this, I'm probably dead. But before I die, I need to tell the truth about what happened nineteen years ago on December 10th." "What are you doing?" I asked. "Creating safety." He kept recording. "Sarah Blackwell didn't die in a fire. She was murdered by people linked to Senator William Hartley. They killed her because she watched illegal campaign donations. Millions of dollars from foreign governments were laundered through fake companies."
My mouth fell open. "You know who killed Mom?" "We've known for years. But we could never prove it. Senator Hartley is too strong. Too tied. Every time we got close, the evidence disappeared. Witnesses died." He looked at me. "But you're a witness they couldn't kill. You saw the man with the snake tattoo. You can recognize him. And that's worth more than any document." "The man with the snake tattoo works for Hartley?" "His head of security. Thomas Vale Marcus Vale's older brother." Ezra kept recording, speaking faster. "They've been covering up Senator Hartley's crimes for decades. Murder. Bribery. Human slavery. And they'll kill anyone who gets in their way. Including us."
Another explosion. The door buckled inward. I could see light through the cracks. "They're almost through," I whispered.
Ezra stopped recording and uploaded the video to various locations. "If we die, this goes public. Every news source. Every writer we trust. The truth will come out." "And if we don't die?" "Then we fight." He checked his gun. "When that door opens, I'm going to lay down covering fire. You run for the tunnel. Squeeze through as far as you can. Maybe there's a weak spot in the concrete. Maybe you can dig your way out." "What about you?" "I'll be right behind you." "You're lying."
Ezra smiled sadly. "Yeah. I'm lying." "No." I grabbed his arm. "I'm not leaving you. We both go, or neither of us goes." "Maya," "I already watched one of you die tonight! I'm not watching another!" Tears streamed down my face. "Please. There has to be another way."
The door burst inward.
Smoke filled the room. Men poured through the opening four, five, six of them. All with guns.
Ezra fired. One man went down. Then another. But there were too many.
Someone grabbed me from behind. I screamed and swung the knife wildly. It connected with something soft. The man yelped and let me go. "Run!" Ezra shouted.
But there was nowhere to run. We were trapped.
The smoke cleared, and Marcus Vale stepped into the room. Not a snake tattoo, man, Marcus Vale himself. Older. Distinguished-looking. Nothing like a criminal. "Enough," he said quietly. His men lowered their guns. "This is over."
Ezra aimed his gun at Vale's head. "I'll kill you before you take another step." "No, you won't." Vale nodded to one of his men, who pulled out a phone and showed us the screen.
It was a live TV feed. Lily. My sister. Tied to a chair in what looked like a warehouse. "We picked her up an hour ago," Vale said happily. "Very helpful once we explained the situation. Now, here's what's going to happen. You're going to put down that gun. Both of you are going to come with us quietly. And if you behave, your sister lives. If you don't," He shrugged. "Well, you saw what happened to Elijah."
My heart stopped. "Don't hurt her. Please. She has nothing to do with this." "That depends entirely on you." Vale held out his hand. "Gun, Mr. Blackwell."
Ezra looked at me. His eyes were desperate, apologetic for something he hadn't done yet. Then he lowered the gun and gave it over. "Smart pick." Vale smiled. "Now, let's go talk with Senator Hartley. He's very eager to meet the girl who remembers his face."
Vale's men grabbed us, zip-tying our hands behind our backs. They pushed us toward the stairs, toward whatever was waiting above.
As we climbed, I saw Elijah's body in the hallway. Blood everywhere. His eyes were looking at nothing.
I looked away, but the picture burned into my mind forever.
They led us outside where a helicopter waited. The blades were already spinning. Vale pushed me toward it. "Wait!" I turned back to Ezra. "I need to know if any of it was real? Did you really want to protect me? Or was I always just bait?"
Ezra's eyes were full of pain. "You're my sister, Maya. That's real. Everything else." His voice broke. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I'm sorry I got you into this." "Touching," Vale said. "Now get in the helicopter."
They shoved us both inside. The door slammed shut. The helicopter took off, and Frost Manor got smaller and smaller below us.
I watched it disappear into the darkness and wondered if I'd ever see the ground again.
Across from me, Senator William Hartley sat with a drink in his hand and a smile on his face. "Hello, Maya," he said. "I've been waiting nineteen years to finish what we started that night. You have no idea how much trouble you've caused me just by living."
He pulled out a syringe filled with something clear. "But don't worry," he said. "This will all be over soon. You'll tell us everything you remember. And then you'll forget forever."
He leaned forward, needle sparkling in the low light. "Sweet dreams, little witness."
The needle entered my skin, and the world went black.