LOGINLouelita’s screams echoed through the car, raw with desperation as she fought against the iron grip of the man trying to drag her out. His rough hands yanked at her mercilessly, his breath reeking of smoke and sweat as he snarled in frustration.
“You’re really making this difficult for me, huh?!” he barked, jerking her shoulder violently. Louelita tried to twist away, her instincts screaming at her to get to the driver’s seat—to find some way to escape—but before she could, the man grabbed her ankle and pulled her back with brute force. Her body lurched forward, and with a sickening impact, her face slammed into the hard plastic of the dashboard. Pain exploded in her mouth. A metallic taste flooded her tongue, and she felt something warm trickling from her lips. Her vision blurred from the force of the hit, but she forced herself to stay conscious. The man didn’t care. As long as she was breathing, he would keep going until he fulfilled his job—killing her. “You little b*tch,” he spat, sneering as he hauled her up again. “If all you wanted was to get hurt, you should’ve just said so from the start!” Louelita flinched at the sheer venom in his voice, but she heard every word. “My employers want you dead, and they want proof of it. If you hadn’t pissed them off by sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, they might’ve even hired you instead!” he mocked. His words cut deeper than any wound. There were three high-ranking government officials involved. That was what she had uncovered. Powerful men with clean reputations in public—yet they were the monsters hiding in the dark. Corrupt beyond redemption. And now, she was paying the price for exposing their sins. Louelita’s fingers trembled as she clutched her forehead, trying to push past the haze of pain. “P-Please…” she choked out, barely able to form words. “I just… I just want to live. I don’t want any of this…” But the man only laughed. “As if I care!” His fist shot out, striking her across the face. A sharp crack echoed inside the vehicle as Louelita’s head snapped to the side. White-hot pain seared through her skull, and before she could recover, her body slumped back into the seat. “Beg all you want,” he taunted, watching her with cruel amusement. “Mercy isn’t part of my job description. You had ten million dollars on your head? You really think I’d waste that opportunity?” Through the haze of agony, Louelita finally got a good look at the man who was going to kill her. He was in his forties, his face rough and weathered from years of violence. A thick mustache curled above his lips, and his long, unkempt hair made him look even more menacing. But what terrified her the most was the jagged scar running from his left brow down to his right eye—a mark of a man who had seen and done unspeakable things. He looked like every ruthless killer she had seen in crime documentaries. And now, she was his latest victim. Before she could move, his boot slammed into her stomach. The force sent her doubling over, gasping for air. Coughs racked her body as she clutched her midsection, but the man didn’t let her recover. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her up. “If you don’t want to suffer, stop pissing me off. Just shut up and die quietly,” he growled. Louelita barely had time to react before he dragged her out of the car. Her head cracked against the metal trunk as he threw her against it, and this time, she felt something warm and wet trickling down her forehead. Blood. Her own blood. The sharp sting made her eyes well up, but she refused to cry. She refused to give him the satisfaction. But deep down, fear was coiling inside her chest like a snake. She was a fool. A complete idiot. She should’ve known this would happen. She should’ve known that meddling with powerful people would lead to this. What a joke. All she wanted was a simple, peaceful life. Was grocery shopping, watching movies, and drinking coffee alone too much to ask for? And now, instead of a quiet evening at home, she was being led to her death. The road ahead was dense with trees and shrubs. Thorns scraped against her arms as she stumbled forward, but the man never loosened his grip. He didn’t care if she got scratched, bruised, or battered. After all, she was going to be nothing but a corpse soon. How could someone be this cruel? Did he not have a sister? A daughter? Was there no part of him that hesitated before taking another life? Her stomach churned as she bit her lip hard, reserving what little strength she had left. She knew what was coming. And then she saw it. A cliff. Her breath hitched as she glanced over her shoulder. Jagged rocks jutted out from the depths below, waves crashing against them in a relentless, merciless rhythm. If she fell, there would be no chance of survival. A gun clicked behind her. “Please…” Her voice trembled as she dropped to her knees, her hands pressed together in a desperate plea. “I—I don’t want to die. Please, just let me go…” The man exhaled sharply. “Sorry, sweetheart. It’s nothing personal. Just business.” The gun fired. Louelita screamed as the bullet struck the ground inches from her feet. Her whole body shook, her heart hammering against her ribs. The man chuckled, clearly enjoying her terror. “Oh, did I scare you? My client wants you to feel real fear before you die. I suppose I should make this enjoyable for both of us.” Another shot. Then another. Each time, the bullets narrowly missed her. The sound of gunfire shattered the stillness of the night, making her ears ring. Louelita dodged as best she could, jumping back, her legs barely holding her weight. But the pain, the exhaustion—it was catching up to her. She received warnings three days ago. The threats came from an unidentified email address. She ignored them. She thought they were empty. She was so… wrong. Her lips trembled as she wiped the blood from her mouth. The man had no heart. No conscience. No remorse. He was grinning. Grinning, as if this was all just a game. Louelita tried to run. But she was too slow. The gun fired again, and this time, the pain was instant. Her right leg buckled as a bullet tore through flesh. A second shot struck her left shoulder, white-hot agony spreading through her body. Then came the final shot. Her chest. She collapsed onto the ground, gasping as she stared up at the dark sky. The moon was the only witness to her suffering. The waves roared below, almost as if mourning her fate. Tears blurred her vision. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps. The killer crouched beside her, checking her face. He was making sure she was dead. She wasn’t. Not yet. But the last bullet came. A sharp, searing pain in her stomach. Louelita gasped, her body convulsing as the pain consumed her. Her fingers twitched. Her mind screamed at her to fight. But it was too late. She felt weightless as the man lifted her up. She was treated as if she was nothing. And then— She was falling. The last thing she felt was the cruel embrace of the wind before her body crashed against the jagged rocks below. The waves swallowed her whole. And just like that, Louelita was gone. She was another nameless victim, discarded into the abyss. She was yet another victim of a corrupt world where justice had no place. And no one would ever know the truth. Not yet. But this wasn’t the end. Because even in death, Louelita’s story wasn’t over. Not yet.The morning it happened, nobody noticed at first. That was appropriate.The best changes in the north house rarely arrived with speeches or anything dramatic enough to deserve witnesses. They came disguised as inconvenience, noise, crumbs, missing socks, two children arguing over a pencil sharpener as if inheritance law were involved, or Rosa muttering the names of saints under her breath because someone—almost certainly Eiji—had brought mud into the kitchen and then denied the existence of weather.This morning began with bread. Burnt bread, specifically. Ezra was responsible.Louelita knew that before she had even opened her eyes fully because the smell drifting through the upstairs hall had none of Rosa’s authority in it. Rosa burned nothing unless the world was ending, and even then she would probably apologize to the pan.This was a man’s mistake. A confident one. A man who had underestimated heat because he was reading a briefing while claiming to “watch the toast.”She sat up i
The first time all of the children fit around one table, the house nearly lost the argument with itself.Not because the table was too small, but because adulthood was.That was the truth of it, Louelita thought as she stood in the kitchen doorway and watched chaos slowly gather shape in the dining room. The space had once belonged to polished dinners, donor-perfect flowers, carefully folded napkins, and adults who knew exactly which fork to use while discussing things they preferred to keep respectable. Now it belonged, correctly, to jam, soup, sharpened pencils, missing socks, mismatched bowls, and children who had absolutely no interest in maintaining the dignity of furniture.Ezra stood beside her with one hand tucked into his pocket and the other holding a plate Rosa had told him to carry several minutes ago. Somehow, despite possessing the organizational ability to move entire operations without losing track of a single detail, he had still not managed to set it down.“You’re bl
The first person Noel trusted with silence was not Louelita.It was not Rosa either.It was Louie, and that surprised almost everyone except Louelita. She had been watching the shape of the house more carefully than the adults around her realized, paying attention not only to who the children approached but also to whom they allowed themselves to simply exist beside. Somewhere along the way, she had begun to understand that frightened children often trusted people in the middle before they trusted the obvious centers of safety.Louie lived in the middle.He was not fully a child anymore, but he was not fully an adult either. He was not soft in the theatrical way some grown-ups tried to be when children frightened them, coating every word in sweetness until kindness itself began to feel suspicious. Neither was he armed with authority, at least not the kind that announced itself in doorways and changed the air simply by entering.Louie was just there.He was on sofas, in hallways, at th
The trouble began with a form.That, Louelita would later insist, was how all the worst adult ideas entered rooms meant for children. They rarely arrived through shouting or open cruelty anymore. Those things were too obvious, too easy to recognize for what they were.The dangerous ideas came quietly.They came through paperwork.It was raining that afternoon in the soft, determined way the season preferred, steady enough to silver the back windows but light enough that the children could still hear one another over it if they argued properly. Water threaded slowly down the glass, blurring the garden beyond into green and gray.The dining room had long since stopped functioning as an actual dining room. Occupation had transformed it into a worktable, an art station, a negotiation zone, and occasionally a battlefield over whose pencil had been whose first. Crayons lived there permanently now, along with soup stains, half-finished reading sheets, folded paper animals, and one chipped gr
The first time Ezra knocked on a child’s door, the whole house heard it.Not because the sound was particularly loud, but because it was Ezra making it.Men like Ezra did not usually knock inside homes they had bled to build. They entered. Quietly, perhaps, and carefully when the room required it, but they still carried the old certainty of men who had spent most of their lives becoming the kind of force doors did not meaningfully resist. A closed door had always been an obstacle, a boundary to assess and cross when necessary, never something that required permission from the person on the other side.So when his knuckles touched the wood of the east room at half past midnight and produced three low, measured taps, the house seemed to listen.Louelita heard it from the sitting room sofa, where she had been reading the same page for nearly ten minutes without turning it. The book rested open across her lap, but the words had long since stopped entering her mind. Rosa sat in the armchai
By the time the rains came properly, the north house no longer sounded temporary.That was not the same as saying it sounded healed. Louelita had learned to distrust adults who used that word too early, as though naming recovery could somehow hurry it into existence. The old line had loved early words. Stabilized, improved, adjusted, and safe. Every one of them had been laid over a wound before the body beneath it had finished deciding whether it wanted to keep living in the same shape.So no, the north house was not healed.But it had become itself, and Louelita had come to understand that this mattered far more than any clean word someone might have written on an assessment form.The first sign had been the hallway lamps. In the beginning, they stayed on because the children asked for them. Then they stayed on because no one remembered to argue about whether they were necessary. Eventually, one evening three months later, Louie changed a bulb in the upstairs east hall without being
“Get out of my way!”Ezra’s furious voice boomed through the hall, his sharp, commanding tone slicing through the chaos like a blade. He was charging forward, his long strides fueled by urgency, his pulse hammering against his skin. His heart clenched at the sight of the carnage left behind. Bodies
“Is that how you greet your mother after twenty-five long years?” The woman’s voice dripped with sarcasm, her lips curling into a taunting smile. The statement made Ezra’s jaw clench tightly, his grip on Louelita's hand growing rigid. His entire body radiated fury, muscles coiled like a predator re
“I can’t let other people see me, especially those who know me… I’ll only put them in danger! I will drag them into this mess, and I cannot bear that in my conscience.” She said, barely whisper.Louelita’s voice wavered, her emotions cracking through every syllable. Her fists clenched tightly on he
“BOSS! The Queen is calling out your name!” The man spoke urgently, fingers brushing the earpiece behind his ear as his sharp gaze swept the surroundings. He had been present at the auction, watching, waiting, and anticipating any move from their enemies.Across the dimly lit room, the one they ca







