The Redwell Files

I woke to the soft glow of the morning sun filtering through the blinds. For a moment, I forgot all that's happened, thought it to be a normal morning, until I heard the quiet sniffle from the living room.

I pushed myself up, muscles aching, and crept toward mamá. She was sitting on the couch, eyes red, the muted television flickering the news across her face. My chest tightened.

"Mamá..." I whispered, kneeling beside her. She didn't look at me at first, just shook her head, quiet tears slipping down her cheeks.

I wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. Her body was small and trembling against mine. "It's going to be okay," I murmured, though I wasn't sure I believed it.

She clutched my arm. "Jenny... he's gone. My Miguel..."

I pressed my forehead to hers. "I know, mamá. I know. But I'm here. We're together. We'll get through this."

She nodded against me, a small shudder running through her, and for a moment, it felt like maybe we could survive the weight of the world together.

After a long, quiet embrace, I helped her settle back onto the couch, smoothing her hair. "I have to go to work now," I said gently, brushing a tear from her cheek. "But I'll check on you later. I promise."

She gave a weak, grateful smile, and I forced myself to step away.

My heart still ached as I left the apartment, slipping my bag over my shoulder. Every step toward the taxi was heavy, but I kept my chin up. Miguel wouldn't let me stop, Not now.

__

By the time I arrived at the office, the fluorescent lights reflected off the polished floors, harsh and unforgiving. Everyone was watching the news on the large screens in the breakroom. I froze, hands slowly curling into fists, nails sharp biting into my palms.

The headline flashed: "Local Man Found Dead in Suspected Suicide."

Miguel.

A chill creeped down my spine, my stomach twisted, painfully. Each step toward my office felt heavier than the last. Like I might collapse. My coworkers' eyes immediately flicked toward me, offering silent condolences. But I didn't want them.

Not now. Not like this.

I brushed past murmurs, the hum of idle conversations fading. I found Daniel and grabbed his arm, pulling him toward my office. My nails dug into his sleeve.

'Daniel had been the only one in the office who ever had my back, no matter what.'

"Jenny... what the heck, your hurting me-" he began, voice low, startled.

"They're lying," I hissed, glancing over my shoulder.

"Excuse me?"

"Miguel didn't die of suicide."

Daniel froze, hand hovering over the door latch. "Look, Jenny... I know this is hard, and slot to process but we need to accept the facts here." he said his tone low, gentle.

As if I were fragile and could fall apart at any moment.

"Goddamn it, Daniel," I whispered, voice trembling. "They killed him. I saw it myself... when they shot him, and. He sent proof of all they were doing... before he died."

As if he knew he would, I thought.

My vision began blurring from the tears I had been holding back. As a heavy sense of guilt crashed over me. Maybe if I had warned him, stopped him... he would still be here.

Daniel's eyes darkened, as he exhaled slowly, hands flexing at his waist. "Jenny... if what you're saying is true... this changes everything."

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. My fingers trembled as I leaned on the desk, pulse hammering, stomach knotted as memories of that night came crashing in.

He placed a hand on my shoulder, and for a minute there a soft sense of warmth cut through the panic. "But Jenny... we need to be careful. If they know you saw him, or least know you have this... they'll come after you next!"

Goosebumps crawled up my arms, from what he just said.

Because I knew it was true but still it was a risk I was willing to take. I rose back up, straightening my posture. "I know. But I don't care, we have to stop them."

Daniel's eyes softened, but his voice remained sharp. "Then let's go through everything. Who had access to him? Where was he? And most importantly, what proof do we have?"

I pulled my phone from my pocket, slick with sweat, anxiously twitching, and showed him the files Miguel had sent.

Names, locations, transfers, operations... live evidence of Redwell Biotech's crimes. My hands shook as I scrolled, anger pulsing through me.

Daniel's brow furrowed deeper with each video. Tension knotted his jaw. "Jenny... this company is untouchable."

I squared my shoulders. Fear and guilt coiled in my chest and snapped into resolve. "Then they've never met us."

He studied me long, weighing the fire in my eyes. He knew I wouldn't let this go.

Daniel was brilliant, seeing patterns in numbers like others see colors. He usually avoided danger, preferring clean battles. But this wasn't just another case. This was personal.

He didn't argue when I made my decision. When I jumped, Daniel would never let me fall alone.

I sat across from him, letting the files play. Hands trembling, monitors casting a pale glow over my wide eyes. My fingers drummed on the desk. Outside, the city moved, unaware that a witness lived-one who could bring an untouchable company down.

I exhaled, guilt pressing down, heart aching. But I couldn't stop. Miguel hadn't had that chance.

I looked at Daniel, voice low but sharp, cutting the office silence. "We start tonight. It'll take time, but we'll find them, stop them, and make them pay for what they did to my brother."

Daniel nodded, grim determination settling over his face. He tapped the desk. "Then let's get to work."

We rose, chairs scraping softly. Legs heavy, stomach twisting, but the fire in my chest refused to dim. I peeked around the office, scanning the monitors and desks. Every shadowed corner, every idle employee reminded me how careful we had to be.

I motioned for Daniel to follow. We moved to our workstations, setting up laptops and screens, the files in my pocket heavy-a physical reminder of Miguel's sacrifice. Fingers flew over keyboards, eyes darting between screens, matching the company's patterns against Miguel's proof.

The hum of the office faded behind us. Outside, the city went about its oblivious rhythm. But inside these walls, we were the storm waiting to break.

The night was waiting for us. And so were they. We worked late. We traced all we could, shell charities, medical grants, and erased trial records.

Daniel followed the money. I followed the people.

By the time we packed up, my head ached and my nerves buzzed.

"We should stop for today," Daniel said.

"We're pushing our luck. I'll drive you home."

The parking structure was quiet, too quiet. Daniel unlocked his door, then froze abruptly causing me to fidget from his sudden pause, "What is it?" I asked.

"Did you hear that?" he whispered.

Footsteps. They were slow, calculated, and heavy. Suddenly a man stepped out from the shadows.

"Daniel," I breathed.

He moved in front of me instinctively. Then the sound of a gunshot cracked through the air. Daniel stumbled. For a second, I thought he had just tripped. "Daniel?" I called out.

He collapsed. The gunshot was like a thunderclap in the deserted alley... a sharp, violent intrusion that made my ears ring.

"No," I screamed.

I dropped beside him, pressing my hands against his chest as blood soaked through my fingers.

His breathing was shallow. Broken.

"Stay with me," I cried.

His eyes flickered open. "Jenny," he whispered.

"I'm here. I'm here."

His hand twitched weakly, gripping my wrist. "Listen," he rasped. "You have to go."

"No," I sobbed. "I won't leave you."

His fingers tightened with what little strength he had left. "Run," he said again, but this time forcing the word out. "Please."

The footsteps got louder, closer. Daniel's eyes shifted past me towards the sound. "Jenny," he whispered urgently. "Now."

Then suddenly a shadow fell over us.

At first, I thought it was just the light shifting. A car passing. I convinced myself it was anything else.

All of a sudden, the air felt too heavy to breathe, as if the alley had suddenly grown smaller. That scent... it feels too familiar. Velvet creek!

I felt it before I saw it.