Warehouse 17

Outside, the rain fell in heavy waves, pounding the asphalt with the fury of a night that refused to end.

Luca was the first to step out of the car. He slammed the door behind him without looking back. A few seconds later, Elena followed, clutching her wet coat tightly around her body and trying to shake the tremor from her hands.

The warehouse was enormous. Abandoned, at least in theory. But Luca’s presence told a different story.

A rusty side door creaked open with a prolonged squeal, and inside, darkness swallowed them both.

Luca flicked on a small flashlight, no bigger than a keychain, and its weak beam cast shadows on the peeling walls.

— Why here? Elena asked cautiously, stepping carefully on the wet floor.

— Because this was once a link between two worlds. Now it’s just a ghost. But a ghost that still whispers.

Elena asked no more questions. She let his footsteps guide her. They reached a smaller room, separated from the large hall by smoky glass doors. A surveillance room. On a worn desk someone had left a recently used ashtray full of cigarette butts. On the wall hung a torn photo: a young brunette, her hair tied back, her eyes wide. Emily.

Elena stepped closer to the picture.

— She was here, wasn’t she?

Luca said nothing. He leaned against the wall, watching her.

— Did you help her?

— I gave her a choice. She made it.

— What choice?

— To run. To disappear. Or to stay in this chain and be sold like an object.

— What does that mean? Who wanted her?

Luca lifted his gaze. For the first time, he looked… tired. Not physically. Tired of the world he lived in.

— This world is made of two kinds of people, Elena. Those who sell. And those who buy. Emily didn’t know she was already on the list of those sold.

— Is that how you talk about people? Like merchandise?

— I didn’t put them on the list. But I know it by heart.

A heavy silence fell between them. Elena leaned on the edge of the desk. The ground seemed to shake beneath her feet.

— What happened to her?

— She ran. With my help. But since then… no one has heard from her.

— Why did you help her?

Luca shrugged, but his eyes betrayed a deeper truth.

— She was too young. And too naive. She reminded me of someone.

Elena felt a pressure in her chest.

— Who?

— My sister.

She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know he had a sister. Or that Luca was capable of speaking like that.

At that moment, a dull noise from the back of the hall made them both jump. Luca drew his gun, instinctively.

— Stay here, he said shortly. If someone followed us, they’re not the kind to just talk.

Elena didn’t listen. She followed him quietly, trying not to step on broken glass or splintered wood.

They reached the back of a loading dock. A broken window, and in the corner… a man. Young, dirty, with a half-pulled-down ski mask and his hand pressed to his ribs, as if wounded.

— Wait! Elena called out, but Luca had already raised his weapon.

— Who are you? he asked coldly.

The man looked at her. His voice was hoarse, barely audible:

— You’re… Carter. The journalist.

— How do you know me?

— Emily… told me about you. That if anything happened to her, I should look for you…

— Where is she? You know where she is?!

He dropped to his knees, breathing hard.

— Not here. But I know where she wanted to go.

Luca fixed him with an intense gaze.

— If you lie, I’ll bury you right here. With my own hands.

— I’m not lying. I worked for them. But I tried to get her out. I failed. They put a price on my head.

Elena touched Luca lightly, as if to stop him from doing something impulsive.

— He’s hurt. We need to get him to a hospital.

— If we take him to a hospital, he’ll die before his bandage is changed. The system is compromised. I’ll take care of him.

— And me? Elena asked.

Luca looked at her, serious.

— You go home. Now.

— No.

— Elena…

— I’ve seen enough to know this story doesn’t end here. If you think you’re sending me back, then you still don’t understand me.

Their eyes met. Too much intensity. Too many unspoken words.

Luca stepped closer. Just one step. But enough.

— If you stay… you might not come out.

— I know, she whispered.

— And yet you stay?

Elena bit her lip, then answered without hesitation:

— Yes.

Outside, the rain was gone. The wind brought the scent of smoke, metal, and danger.

But Elena Carter had made her choice.

And beside Luca Moretti, in the warehouse where reality mixed with fear, a fight had begun.

Not just for Emily.

For the truth.

And maybe… for her heart.