Chapter 1 - The Blood on the Concrete Floor
The rough nylon cord bit into my wrists.
Every pulse sent fire up my forearms.
My bare knees pressed against the freezing concrete.
It smelled of dead salt, diesel fuel, and dried copper.
For six days, the dark had been my only company.
Six days without sunlight.
Six days with barely a thimble of murky water.
My tongue felt like sandpaper wedged in my throat.
Outside the rusted corrugated walls, harbor foghorns groaned.
The city of Baltimore was alive.
People were buying morning coffee.
Trams were rumbling down the tracks.
And my little brother was waking up alone.
A sharp click echoed across the vast emptiness.
Designer heels struck the floor.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Evelyn Sterling stopped two inches from my face.
She crouched down.
Her cream cashmere coat swept the grime without her caring.
Her diamond earrings caught the beam of a single bare bulb overhead.
She looked immaculate.
I looked like a carcass hauled from the bay.
"Look at you, Nora," she purred.
Her breath smelled of expensive peppermint and French roast.
"Still breathing. You really are like a stray dog."
I couldn't lift my chin.
My neck trembled under the weight of my own skull.
"Where... is he?" I croaked.
"Caleb?" Evelyn smiled.
The expression didn't reach her pale blue eyes.
It was the same look she wore when checking a dinner receipt.
"He’s still waiting by the window, I imagine," she murmured.
She reached out with manicured nails.
She tipped my chin upward.
The pain shot into my spine.
"He thinks his big sister is coming home with groceries," she whispered.
"Poor thing. With his bad lungs, crying must hurt so much."
My chest heaved.
Adrenaline surged past my starvation.
I strained against the cords.
"If you touch him... Evelyn, I swear to God—"
"You swear to God?" She laughed softly.
The sound bounced off the iron rafters.
"God doesn't come down to Pier 42, Nora."
She stood up slowly, brushing an invisible speck of dust from her knee.
From her leather clutch, she pulled out a manila envelope.
She tapped it against her gloved palm.
"By sunset, the harbor police will find a suicide note in your handwriting."
She tilted her head.
"Or perhaps an embezzlement confession. I haven't decided yet."
"Roman... won't believe you," I managed to say.
The name tasted like iron in my mouth.
Roman Calder.
The man who owned this harbor.
The man she was supposed to marry in three weeks.
Evelyn’s smirk tightened into a vicious slit.
"Roman is a businessman, darling. When twenty thousand dollars goes missing from
payroll, and you vanish along with it, what will he care?"
She leaned in close again.
"You’re just his cook. You made his eggs. You ironed his linen."
She patted my hollow cheek hard enough to sting.
"Do you have any last wishes before my men put you in the harbor?"
I closed my eyes.
I saw Caleb's freckled face.
I saw his worn red sneakers.
I saw the notes I left every morning by his cereal bowl.
"Tell Caleb..." My voice broke.
Tears burned tracks through the dirt on my cheeks.
"Tell him I didn't leave him. Tell him I fought."
Evelyn pulled a silver lighter from her pocket.
She flicked it open.
The flame danced against the cold shadows.
"He will never know," she whispered.
Then, behind the heavy steel fire door at the back of the room—
A lock clicked.
May you like
The sound was tiny.
Yet the entire room seemed to freeze.
