Chapter 5: The First Crack in the Mask

Rain hammered the hotel windows like bullets.

I sat on the edge of the king-sized bed, laptop open, watching the money move. Forty-eight million dollars now sat in three separate offshore trusts. Clean. Untouchable. The last of my father’s commercial properties had finished liquidating at 4:17 a.m.

My phone lit up again.

Marcus.

I had blocked his number twelve hours ago. He was calling from Chloe’s phone now.

I answered on speaker and kept my voice soft.

“Evelyn… baby, please. My wrist is in a cast. Mom’s having chest pains. The bank froze everything. Just… just talk to me.”

I stared at the dark screen of the tablet still sitting on the nightstand. The video of him and Chloe was still paused on the moment his tongue was in her mouth.

“Talk,” I said.

“It was a mistake. Chloe means nothing. Sarah is your daughter in every way that matters. We can fix this. I’ll sign whatever you want. Just unfreeze the accounts and cancel that loan. Mom can’t handle this kind of stress.”

I almost laughed.

In my last life they had watched me get torn apart and still managed to sleep that night.

“I’ll think about it,” I said, and hung up.

Then I dialed a different number.

“Howard. Status on the bunker?”

His gravelly voice came through immediately. “Crews are already on-site. First load of titanium plating arrives tomorrow. Forty-five days is still suicide, but for twenty-five million I’ll make it work. One problem though.”

I waited.

“There’s an old maintenance tunnel that runs under the ridge. Maps show it was sealed in ‘89, but my guys found fresh footprints near the entrance. Someone’s been down there recently.”

My fingers tightened around the phone.

“Send me the coordinates. And Howard… no one else finds out about that tunnel. If anyone asks, it doesn’t exist.”

“Understood.”

I ended the call and opened the spatial interface.

[Storage Capacity: 15,000 m³ – 38% filled]

[New Function Detected: Spatial Mapping (Locked)]

[Requirement: Absorb one anomalous energy source]

Anomalous energy source.

My eyes drifted to the four violet capsules still floating in the void, perfectly neutralized but still glowing faintly.

I had not dared touch them again.

A soft knock sounded at the hotel door.

Three sharp taps. Then two. Then one.

The code only one person in this city still used with me.

I stood, walked to the door, and looked through the peephole.

The hallway was empty.

But a small black envelope lay on the carpet.

I opened the door just wide enough to snatch it, then locked everything again.

Inside was a single photograph.

Taken from a high angle.

Me.

Standing alone inside Warehouse 4B three days ago, palm outstretched, as thirty tons of frozen beef vanished into thin air.

On the back, written in precise handwriting:

We know what you can do.

Meet us at the old lighthouse at midnight.

Come alone, or the next photo goes to Marcus… and the military.

My blood turned to ice.

Someone had been watching me the entire time.

And they knew about the spatial realm.

I looked at the clock.

11:07 p.m.

Fifty-three minutes until midnight.

I slipped the photo into my pocket, opened the spatial space, and pulled out a black tactical jacket, a suppressed pistol, and a thin ceramic knife.

Then I smiled into the dark hotel room.

Whoever they were… they had just made their first mistake.

They thought they were hunting me.

They had no idea I had already started hunting them.

I stepped out into the rain and disappeared into the night.