Se connecterBosco and Elliot were halfway to the car when the iron gate creaked open behind them. The sound made both of them turn at the same time, irritation already forming on Bosco's lips until he saw who it was.Their mother.Megan stepped in slowly, as if unsure whether she was welcome or trespassing. She looked thinner than either of them remembered, her shoulders slightly hunched, eyes tired but searching. The evening light caught the silver threads in her hair, traces of time and hardship neither son had been prepared to see. For a heartbeat, the world froze.Bosco's breath left him in a rush. "Mom?"The word came out broken, disbelieving. He'd imagined this reunion countless times, rehearsed what he might say, how he might react. None of it prepared him for the rush of emotion that hit him now—relief, joy, anger, love, all tangled together in his chest.Elliot didn't wait for confirmation. He crossed the distance in three long strides and wrapped his arms around her. Bosco followe
Margaret's hands trembled as she spoke. At first, her words came out uneven, tangled in sobs she had kept buried for years. Bella stood stiffly in front of her, arms folded across her chest like a shield, but she didn't interrupt her. Not this time."They found out," Margaret began, her voice thin and fragile. "I don't even know how. One day I was just a housekeeper, invisible, careful. The next day, men I had never seen before were standing too close to me, smiling too politely. They knew your name. They knew your school. They knew where we slept."Bella's lips quivered. She looked away briefly, fighting for composure, then forced herself to look back."They told me to leave the country," Margaret continued, her voice cracking. "They said if I loved you, if I wanted you to grow up breathing freely, I should disappear. Not just leave. Vanish. They said accidents happen to children whose mothers don't listen."Bella sucked in a sharp breath, tears finally spilling despite her effort t
Bella had just stepped out of the mall, the glass doors sliding shut behind her with a soft mechanical sigh. The afternoon air hit her face, warm and dusty, carrying the usual city mix of exhaust fumes and street food. She adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder and headed toward the road, eyes already scanning for a cab. Her mind was elsewhere; half on Jack’s silence, half on Julia’s face from afar, half on the restless ache that had refused to leave her chest since prison gates opened.Then a voice cut through everything.“Bella.”She stopped mid-step.Her heart didn’t just skip. It slammed, hard enough to steal her breath. Slowly, too slowly, she turned.The woman standing a few steps behind her looked older, thinner, her hair streaked with grey and pulled back neatly, but the face,God, the face, was unmistakable. Time had carved lines into it, but it hadn’t erased it.Bella’s lips parted.“Mom?” she breathed, the word slipping out before she could stop it.The sound of it
Julia stood alone in her office long after the building had emptied. The lights on her floor were dimmed automatically, leaving only the soft glow from her desk lamp and the vast stretch of city lights beyond the glass wall. From this height, the city looked calm, obedient even, as if nothing ugly ever happened beneath its surface.She knew better now.Julia rested her palms against the cool glass, her reflection faintly superimposed over the skyline. The warehouse replayed itself in her mind in fragments; the trucks, the reinforced locks, the way the manager's eyes sharpened when he recognized her. She hadn't gone there to be brave. She'd gone because not knowing had become unbearable.Every step forward was costing her something. Sleep. Safety. Innocence she hadn't realized she still carried.Her phone buzzed on the desk behind her.Julia didn't turn immediately. She stared at the city a second longer, as if memorizing it, then finally walked back and glanced at the screen. Unkn
Julia parked farther away than necessary, stepping out of the car with the quiet deliberateness of someone who did not want attention but was prepared for it anyway. The NovaCorp warehouse sat at the edge of the industrial district, its steel body stretching wide and low, painted in clean corporate colors that suggested order, innovation, harmless productivity. On paper, it was just another logistics extension for a tech company. In reality, it felt wrong the moment Julia stepped onto the concrete.The air smelled heavier here. Not oil or rust. Something else. Something lived-in.She walked slowly, heels clicking softly against the ground, eyes scanning details she had trained herself not to ignore. Trucks lined the loading bay, engines off, drivers nowhere in sight. At first glance, they looked legitimate. NovaCorp logos stamped boldly on the sides, the same blue-and-silver palette repeated with mechanical precision. But Julia’s gaze lingered.These were not tech delivery trucks.
Bella arrived early.The café Jack had chosen sat on a quiet street most people only passed through, never stopped at. The music was playing but not loud. Just dim lighting, polished wood, and a soft hum of conversation that blended into anonymity. Bella liked that. It meant nothing said inside would echo loudly enough to follow her out.She took a seat near the back, her coat still on, her bag placed deliberately on the chair beside her. She ordered nothing. Waiting was part of the message.When Jack finally walked in, she felt it before she saw him. The air shifted. He scanned the room once, then again, slower the second time. Not the casual glance of a man used to owning every space he entered, but the careful sweep of someone measuring exits.Bella smiled to herself.He spotted her and approached, posture relaxed, face arranged into the familiar charm that had worked on too many people for too long. But when he reached the table, she noticed the cracks immediately.“Bella,” he s







