Chapter 39 - The Cell Beneath the Tide
Maya climbed the stairs to the mezzanine, her hands shaking, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
When Sofia heard her footsteps, the little girl lifted her head from Dante’s shoulder. Through her swollen, red-rimmed eyes, she saw Maya standing at the top of the iron stairs, drenched in rain, her hair clinging to her cheeks.
Sofia reached out one small, bruised hand.
*"Maya,"* Sofia whispered, her voice tiny and cracked, but crystal clear.
Maya dropped to her knees beside Dante, taking the little girl’s hand in both of hers, pressing it to her lips while tears streamed freely down her face. "I’m here, sweetie. You were so brave. You left the bird for us. We found you because of your drawing."
Sofia nodded furiously, clutching Maya’s fingers with surprising strength. "I remembered the yellow bird. I didn't cry until they tied me."
"You did everything right," Dante said, lifting Sofia into his arms, supporting her small frame against his chest. He stood up, looking at Maya. "We leave now. Marcus has the transport idling outside."
They moved quickly down the metal stairs, navigating the smoky, silent graveyard of the factory floor. Marcus stood by the breached doorway, his weapon lowered, exhaling a massive breath of relief as he saw the child safely in Dante’s arms.
"Transport is secured, Dante," Marcus reported. "Medical team is standing by at the safe house in Greenwich. But we need to move—Cavallo’s forces at the pier will realize the radio silence within ten minutes."
"They won't get the chance," Dante said coldly. "We take the highway north."
They walked out into the rain-soaked industrial yard. The cool night air felt clean against their skin after the suffocating steam of the laundry plant.
Dante moved toward the open rear door of the armored SUV, intending to set Sofia inside with Maya.
Suddenly, every floodlight mounted on the high perimeter fence snapped on at once.
May you like
Blinding, halogen-white light engulfed the entire courtyard in an instant, turning the darkness into harsh, sterile day.
***
