Chapter 11 - The Shadow Behind the Curtain
The air vanished from my lungs.
Aunt Evelyn. My mother’s soft-spoken, philanthropic sister. The woman who had held my hand at my mother’s funeral. The woman who had sent me handwritten recipes every Christmas and cried on the phone when I told her Ryan and I were getting married.
"You're lying," I whispered into the phone, my knuckles turning white against the plastic receiver. "Aunt Evelyn lives in a quiet cottage in Maine. She runs an animal sanctuary. She has nothing to do with global finance."
Ryan let out a dry, hysterical laugh that sounded like cracking bone. "You really are that naive, aren't you? Aunt Evelyn hasn't lived in Maine for a decade. She owns forty percent of Apex Horizon. She hated your mother because your grandfather left the family estate to your mother instead of her. She’s been planning this vengeance for twenty-five years, Claire. Every single penny I siphoned from your trust went directly into accounts controlled by her offshore trusts!"
Before I could process the words, the lights in the detention center flickered violently once, twice, and then plunged the entire visitor hall into pitch-black darkness.
Emergency red backup lights clicked on three seconds later, bathing the concrete room in an eerie, blood-red glow.
A piercing alarm blared through the overhead speakers: *"Code Red. Security breach in Sector Four. All units lock down."*
On the other side of the acrylic partition, Ryan sprang up from his chair, screaming in terror as the electronic locks on the heavy iron doors behind him hissed and clicked open.
Through the narrow window of the secure hallway behind Ryan, two men dressed in tactical combat gear without badges stepped into view.
Ryan slammed his cuffed hands against the glass, screaming at me through the soundproof barrier, his face contorted in sheer, unadulterated horror.
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*"Claire! Get out! She’s not in Maine—she’s here! She’s—"*
A sudden sharp crack echoed behind him, and the glass between us shattered into a spiderweb of white fractures. Dad tackled me to the concrete floor, shielding my body with his own as screaming guards flooded the corridor and gunfire erupted through the flashing red darkness.
