Chapter 5 - The Forged Goodbye
The darkness peeled away slowly, like wet paper tearing off raw flesh.
The cold returned first.
Then the smell of rusty water and rotten wood.
I opened my eyes.
My hands were bound tightly behind the iron upright of a support beam.
My forehead throbbed with a sickening rhythm.
In front of me, Evelyn Sterling stood holding a manila folder.
Beside her stood two men with bruised knuckles and heavy jackets.
"Good morning, Nora," Evelyn said softly.
Her makeup was pristine.
Her crimson trench coat looked like a fresh splash of blood against the gray
concrete.
"Where is Caleb?" I begged, choking on my dry tongue.
"Where is my brother?"
She pulled out a sheet of paper from the folder.
"He's safe. For now."
She held the paper in front of my face.
It was written in neat, cursive letters.
My cursive letters.
Dear Mr. Calder,
I cannot do this anymore. I took the payroll envelope from the safe.
Caleb and I are leaving the country.
Do not look for me.
"You forged my hand," I whispered in horror.
"Not just the note," Evelyn laughed softly.
She snapped her fingers.
One of the thugs held up my old canvas backpack.
He dumped it onto the wet floor.
Bundles of cash tumbled out.
Along with Caleb’s spare asthma pump.
Along with my birth certificate.
"Roman's accountants will report the theft at noon," Evelyn explained casually.
"The police will find your backpack abandoned near the train station."
She tilted her head.
"And your body will wash up in the Chesapeake Bay three weeks from now."
"A tragic accident. A thief who got greedy and crossed the wrong smugglers."
"He will know," I gasped, blood dripping from my split lip onto my collar.
"Roman isn't a fool. He will know your handwriting. He knows I wouldn't leave
him like this!"
"Leave him?" Evelyn sneered.
Her eyes flashed with manic fury.
"You talk as if you belonged to him!"
She stepped closer.
She grabbed my hair and yanked my head back until my neck screamed.
"He hasn't looked at me the same way since he woke up under that damn blanket!"
she snarled into my ear.
"He postponed the caterers! He canceled the florist!"
"All because his precious, dirty little servant boy had an earache!"
She let go of my hair with a jerk.
She stepped back and wiped her fingers with a silk handkerchief.
"Finish it," she told the tall man on her right.
"Use the chain. Make sure she sinks to the bottom of the basin."
The thug reached into his jacket.
He pulled out a heavy steel revolver with a black suppressor attached to the
barrel.
The sound of the hammer pulling back was deafening in the hollow warehouse.
Click.
He raised the barrel.
He pointed it directly between my eyes.
I closed my eyes.
Caleb, forgive me.
BOOM!
The steel double doors of the warehouse blew inward with the force of an
artillery shell.
May you like
Concrete shards whistled through the air.
A black heavy truck had rammed completely through the wall.
