CHAPTER FOUR - The Spindle Diner

The Spindle Diner stood on the corner of a dimly lit street, its flickering white and red sign buzzing luminously in the night. It was quiet inside, with only two customers and a waitress wiping down tables. The smell of coffee and cream carried a homely feel that lingered like an old song.

She chose a booth near the back, her eyes scanning the room. No one looked suspicious, yet the pit in her stomach wouldn’t ease.

Her phone buzzed.

Jade: "I’ve got a location ping. Whoever texted you is already there. Two booths ahead, left side. Black jacket.

She spotted him instantly: a man in a black jacket sitting in the farthest booth, facing the exit.

“Alright, let's do this,” she muttered under her breath as she stood and walked toward him.

He was tall and broad-shouldered, his features partly hidden by the shadow of his cap. His eyes, however a deep gray with an unreadable calm met hers as soon as she approached. She could see he was in his mid-thirties, with a neatly trimmed beard, nursing a cup of coffee.

Sliding into the seat opposite him, she folded her hands on the table.

“You came,” he said, his voice low but steady.

“I didn’t have much choice, did I?” Imani replied, her voice curt. “You wanted to talk about my mother.”

He looked up slowly. “You look just like her.”

Her heart skipped painfully. “Who are you?”

He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he slid a silver flash drive across the table and watched as she stretched her hand to take it.

“Roura was… a remarkable woman. She trusted very few people.” He paused. “But also the wrong one.”

Her brows furrowed. “You knew her? What do you mean, she trusted the wrong person?” Her heart was beating loudly.

He hesitated, glancing toward the window. “Let’s just say we worked together before your father got involved,” he replied coldly.

Something cold twisted in her chest. “Then tell me what happened to her,” she inquired, her eyes searching his.

He nodded faintly toward the flash drive. “Your mother was working on something before she died. Something that could ruin a lot of people your father included. ‘Project Aurora’ wasn’t just a mining record. It was proof.”

Her heart hammered, her breath hitched in a gasp. Disbelief masked her face as she bit her lip and nodded. “Proof of what?” she asked, her voice barely audible.

“This contains the files she hid. Proof of what she found in the mine. Proof of what they did to her.”

Imani’s fingers trembled as she took it. “Who are you, really?”

Before he could answer, his expression changed, sharpened. “They found us.”

The diner lights flickered. Outside, two black SUVs pulled up silently. Men in suits stepped out.

“Go!” he hissed.

“What about you?” she whispered, alarmed.

He smiled faintly, eyes determined. “Don't worry about me. Just make sure it’s not for nothing.”

Then he bolted out the side door, drawing the men away. Shouts filled the air, tires screeched, and glass shattered. Imani clutched the flash drive and ran through the back exit into the night.

Her earpiece crackled, Jade’s voice urgent. “Imani, where the hell are you? They’re on your trail!”

“Behind Spindle. Get the car running.”

A few seconds later, Jade’s black sedan swerved into the alley. Imani jumped in, breath ragged.

“Go, go, go, Jade!” she shouted.

Jade laughed—this was the kind of thrill she lived for.

The tires screamed as they tore through the narrow lanes, the city lights blurring past. Jade checked the mirror and saw a black Toyota following them. She turned left; the car did the same.

“Shit!” she cursed.

“What?” Imani asked, looking panicked.

“They’re tracking us,” Jade muttered. “We can’t keep this car.”

“I know.”

They turned sharply into an old garage lot. *Dunk’s Fix & Tech* was scrawled across a fading sign. A man emerged from the shadows—tall, dark-skinned, and built like he could carry the world on his shoulders. His eyes gleamed with easy warmth beneath his serious look.

“Ladies, I wasn’t expecting night visitors,” he greeted with a smirk. “Let me guess: triple trouble, and you brought company.”

“Not the kind we want,” Jade replied, stepping out of the car. “We need a switch. Fast.”

Without a word, Dunk opened the back gate and led them to a similar car. Within minutes, the swap was done: license plates changed, trackers removed, engine rewired. Smooth, professional.

“Thank you. We owe you one,” Imani said.

“Don’t mention it. Anything for Roura’s girl.”

Imani blinked. “You knew my mother?”

He didn’t answer, just gave a small smile. “Be careful,” he said, tossing Jade the new keys.

She caught them easily, grinning. “Whoever’s on your tail might be professionals.”

“So are we!” Jade sassed.

Imani rolled her eyes; Jade and danger were two peas in a pod.

“Careful, tiger. Your ride is clean and ready to roll out,” he deadpanned.

“Thanks, Teddy Bear. I knew I could count on you.”

He gave her a flat look. “Keep talking, and I’ll start charging extra.”

Imani smiled faintly despite the tension and gave him a curt nod before entering the car with Jade at the steering wheel, speeding off from the garage.

As they sped off, Jade glanced at her. “He’s one of the good ones. Don’t ask me how I know. I just feel it in my gut.”

They drove for nearly an hour until the roads grew narrower, the city fading behind them. The trees thickened, forming a lush canopy that glimmered faintly under the moonlight, bending like silent witnesses. It wasn't really a forest, more like a forgotten green belt, but to outsiders, it looked abandoned.

Jade turned off the main road and onto a narrow dirt path. The deeper they went, the denser the trees became.

“Are we lost?” Imani asked softly.

“Not even close,” Jade smirked. “Your mum had taste.” She accelerated.

At the end of the winding path, the forest opened up, revealing a hidden duplex. Sleek, silver, and half-camouflaged by shimmering vines, the structure was a mix of modern steel and living greenery—a blend of nature and tech that felt impossibly alive.

“Voice access,” Jade whispered.

Imani leaned forward and spoke clearly: “Access code: Kane-Roura-9.”

“Access granted,” a soft robotic voice chimed, and the gate slid open soundlessly.

They drove inside, parking their car in the garage as the gate closed silently behind them. They stepped out of the car and walked into the house.

Inside felt like walking into a dream: glass walls, holographic displays humming gently, furniture sleek and minimal yet warm with earth-toned fabrics. The scent of citrus and cedar filled the air. A spiral glass staircase wound upward like a ribbon of light.

“This place…” Jade whispered, eyes wide. “It’s like she built a fortress out of art.”

Warm lights flickered across marble floors. Floor-to-ceiling glass walls framed the forest beyond, giving the illusion of both freedom and isolation. The living area was minimalist, with white leather couches, big screens glowing faintly, and a grand digital map suspended in the air like mist.

Everywhere, Roura’s touch lingered—her love for quiet elegance, her fascination with technology. This was her safe haven, and now, it was Imani’s.

Jade threw herself on the couch, stretching. “Still feels like we’re in some spy movie,” she muttered.

Imani smiled faintly, brushing her hand along a wall panel that pulsed faintly under her touch. “She called it Haven. Said one day I’d understand why.”

They settled at the glass table in the center of the room. The brown folder labeled “Project Aurora” sat beside the silver drive. Imani glanced at it but didn’t open it. Not yet. Something told her it wasn't time.

“Let’s start with this,” Jade said, plugging in the drive. Her fingers began to move, a blur of motion as lines of code flooded the screen. On a secondary monitor, a faint silhouette emerged from the digital noise—an architectural blueprint taking shape.

Imani stared at the flash drive, her heart heavy yet burning with purpose. Her mother’s final words echoed faintly in her memory: *“If anything happens to me, check the mine records under Project Aurora.”*

Now, both the hidden folder and this drive bore that same, fateful name.

The main screen flared to life, displaying the single, encrypted file: PROJECT AURORA. A stark warning blinked across the interface: *“Access Restricted. Kane Global Encryption Protocol - Level 9.”*

“Level 9?” Jade frowned, her expression turning grim. “That’s military-grade security.”

Imani’s jaw tightened with resolve. “Then we break it.”

“It won't be easy. Whoever made this didn’t want anyone getting in,” Jade murmured, slowly looking up from the screen. “But… maybe I can. Give me a few hours.”

As Jade cracked her knuckles and settled deeper into the chair, Imani leaned back, her mind racing. She frowned, the image of the hidden duplex fresh in her mind.

“Mum mentioned Project Aurora. The folder, the letter… and now this. It can’t be a coincidence.”

“Which means your father isn’t just hiding secrets,” Jade muttered, her focus already on the console. “He’s covering up an operation.”

Imani’s gaze remained fixed on the glowing letters.

*Project Aurora.*

The name felt heavier now, charged with a significance she couldn't yet grasp. Whatever secrets her mother died protecting, whatever operation her father was concealing—Aurora was the key to everything.

And she was about to uncover it. Her gut told her this could be the key to everything.