The Family Secret

Chapter 1: The Announcement

“Lourdes, Yara! Come downstairs into the kitchen; we’re having a family meeting,” Mom yelled from below.

I groaned, barely looking up from my phone. “We all know you and Dad are getting a divorce, so what could you possibly have to tell us?” Yara called back, her tone biting.

I rolled out of bed and got dressed and headed downstairs.

Mom sighed when we entered the room. “Well, sweetheart, we’re moving into a new house. Big enough for all of us… and for Chaz and the boys.”

Chaz is our older brother. He has two sons, Joshua and Xavier.

“Oh, and one more thing, Lourdes,” Mom added. “I’m going leaving for a few days next week to take care of mama Rosa.”

“Okay, Mom,” I replied, trying not to sound annoyed. She had a habit of dropping major life changes on us without warning.

The room fell silent after Mom’s announcement, her words lingering in the air like a heavy fog.

“A new house? For what? So we can pretend everything’s normal?” Yara crossed her arms, her tone laced with bitterness.

Mom sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose. “It’s not about pretending, Yara. It’s about starting over. For all of us. The house is big enough for Chaz and his boys to live with us while we figure things out.”

“Chaz? Are you serious?” I couldn’t hide my irritation. “So, not only are we uprooting our lives, but now we have to share space with his kids? What about us, Mom? What about what we need?”

Mom’s lips tightened into a thin line. “This isn’t up for debate. The move is happening, and that’s final. And Lourdes,” she added, fixing me with a stern look, “watch your tone.”

I bit back a retort and glanced at Yara, who rolled her eyes dramatically. It was always the same with Mom—making decisions without asking us, then expecting us to go along without a fight.

Yara wasn’t done, though. “And you’re just going to leave? Go to mama Rosa’s and dump all of this on us? Typical.”

Mom’s face softened, and for a moment, I thought she might argue back. But instead, she sighed. “Your grandmother needs me. She’s not well. This is about family, Yara, whether you want to see it that way or not.”

“Family,” Yara muttered under her breath, shaking her head.

I wanted to argue more, to push back, but I didn’t have the energy. The weight of everything—Dad’s absence, the move, the constant upheaval—pressed on my chest.

“When are we leaving?” I asked quietly.

“Tomorrow,” Mom replied.

“Tomorrow?!” Yara and I said in unison.

“Yes, tomorrow. Chaz is coming to help us pack in the morning. Everything’s already arranged,” Mom said, her voice firm.

Yara stormed out of the kitchen without another word, her footsteps pounding up the stairs. I stood there for a moment longer, staring at Mom. She looked exhausted, like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

“You could’ve told us sooner,” I said softly, then turned and followed Yara upstairs.

When I walked into our shared room, Yara was pacing, her arms folded tightly across her chest.

“Can you believe her?” she fumed. “How can she just uproot our lives like this?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, sinking onto my bed. “But there’s no point in arguing. It’s not like we have a choice.”

Yara stopped pacing and looked at me, her expression hardening. “This isn’t just about moving, Lourdes. This is about how she always puts everyone else first—Dad, Chaz, even mama Rosa. Never us. I’m tired of being an afterthought.”

I wanted to say she was wrong, but deep down, I knew she wasn’t. Mom always found a way to justify her decisions, even when they left us in pieces.

“We’ll deal with it,” I said finally, trying to sound braver than I felt. “We always do.”

Yara didn’t respond. She just sat down on her bed, her gaze fixed on the wall. The tension in the room was suffocating, but neither of us said another word.

I lay down, staring at the ceiling, trying to make sense of everything. A new house. A new life. A new beginning, Mom called it. But it didn’t feel like a beginning. It felt like the end.

Chapter 2: The Move

“Get up,” Lourdes muttered, nudging her me. “They’re here.”

I groaned and rolled over. “Let me guess—Chaz is already barking orders like he owns the place?”

Lourdes sighed, pulling on a hoodie. “Pretty much. Let’s just get this over with.”

Downstairs, the house was alive with noise. Movers darted back and forth, hauling furniture and boxes into a large truck parked in the driveway. Mom stood in the middle of the living room, giving instructions, while Chaz’s two sons—Joshua and Xavier—chased each other around the cluttered space.

“Lourdes, Yara!” Chaz called when he spotted us descending the stairs. He grinned, his hands on his hips. “Glad you finally decided to join us. Grab a box and start loading. Let’s move, move, move!”

“Morning to you too,” I muttered, shooting him a glare as he shuffled toward a stack of boxes by the door.

Lourdes picked up a box labeled Kitchen and followed one of the movers outside. The air was crisp, a hint of fall creeping into the late summer heat. She took a moment to look around their neighborhood—the rows of small, identical houses, the cracked sidewalks, the trees just starting to lose their green.

We’ve lived here our whole lives. The thought of leaving made her chest tighten.

“Lourdes, stop daydreaming and grab another box,” Chaz barked, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“I’m going,” she muttered, walking back inside.

The hours dragged on as we emptied the house piece by piece. I was uncharacteristically quiet, throwing pointed glares at Chaz every time he gave an order but otherwise keeping to himself. Our mother, on the other hand, seemed oddly upbeat, chatting with the movers and fussing over the boys.

By early afternoon, the truck was packed, and the house was empty. Lourdes stood in the living room, looking around at the bare walls and dusty floors. It felt surreal, like they were abandoning more than just a house.

“You okay?” I asked, stepping up beside her.

“Yeah Yara you don’t have to check on me,” Lourdes shot back.

“Come on,” I said softly. “Let’s go.”

The drive to Trenton was long and silent. Lourdes stared out the window as the scenery blurred past—rolling hills, empty fields, small towns that looked even quieter than the one they were leaving.

I sat beside her, scrolling through her phone and occasionally sighing in irritation. Mom hummed along to the radio, oblivious to the tension filling the car.

When we finally pulled into the driveway of the new house, I felt my stomach twist.

The house was huge. A sprawling colonial-style home with white siding, dark shutters, and a wide porch that wrapped around the front. The yard was overgrown, weeds choking the flowerbeds, and the paint on the porch railing was peeling.

“Well?” mom said, turning to them with a bright smile. “What do you think?”

“It’s… big,” Lourdes said carefully.

“It’s falling apart,” I muttered.

Mom ignored us and stepped out of the car. “Come on, let’s take a look inside!”

Lourdes followed reluctantly, her shoes crunching on the gravel driveway. Inside, the house was even bigger than it looked from the outside. The ceilings were high, the rooms spacious, but everything felt old and neglected.

“This is… different,” Lourdes said, trying to keep the judgment out of her voice.

“It needs a little love, that’s all,” their mother replied, already moving through the house, pointing out rooms and features. “Lourdes, you and Yara will share the big room upstairs. Chaz and the boys will take the two rooms down the hall. Isn’t this exciting?”

I shot Lourdes a look that said everything she was thinking: Exciting? Seriously?

My sister and I made our way upstairs to our new rooms. They’re large, with slanted ceilings and a single window that looked out over the backyard. The walls were a faded yellow, and the wooden floorboards creaked with every step.

“This sucks,”I said, dropping her bag onto the floor.

“It’s just a house,” Lourdes replied, though she couldn’t deny the uneasy feeling creeping over her.

After spending the rest of the afternoon unpacking, Lourdes wandered downstairs to the kitchen. Chaz was there, rummaging through boxes, while their mother sat at the table, making a list of things to buy for the house.

“Do you need help?” Lourdes offered halfheartedly.

Her mother looked up, surprised. “That would be lovely, sweetheart. Could you start putting the dishes away?”

Lourdes nodded and grabbed the box labeled Kitchen. As she unpacked, her mind wandered to the past—Harlem and Chloe, the days when their family was whole.

“Mom,” she said hesitantly, “do you ever think about Harlem?”

Her mother froze for a moment before forcing a smile. “Of course I do. Every day.”

“Do you think we’ll ever find out what happened to her?”

Her mother’s smile faltered. “Let’s not dwell on the past, Lourdes. Focus on the future. This is a fresh start for all of us.”

Lourdes wanted to press further, but the sharpness in her mother’s tone made her stop.

That night, Lourdes lay awake in her new bed, staring at the ceiling. The house was quiet, but not in a peaceful way. Every creak of the floorboards, every groan of the walls, seemed amplified in the silence.

“Lourdes,” Yara whispered from the other side of the room.

“What?”

“Do you think this is going to fix anything?”

Lourdes hesitated. “I don’t know.”

Yara sighed. “Me neither.”

As Lourdes drifted off to sleep, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the move wasn’t the fresh start her mother claimed it to be. It was the beginning of something else—something much darker.

Chapter 3: A House of Secrets

The next morning, Lourdes woke to the sound of footsteps echoing through the house. At first, she thought it was the movers again, but when she looked out her window, the truck was gone.

“Yara?” she whispered, glancing at her sister’s bed. It was empty.

She got up and pulled on a sweatshirt before heading downstairs. The kitchen was a mess, with half-unpacked boxes scattered across the counters. Chaz was at the table, sipping coffee and scrolling through his phone while his boys argued over a handheld game console.

“Where’s Mom?” Lourdes asked, glancing around.

“She went to the store,” Chaz replied without looking up. “Left me in charge.”

“Fantastic,” Lourdes muttered, grabbing a granola bar from an open box.

“Hey, why don’t you make yourself useful and help me unpack?” Chaz said, finally looking at her.

Lourdes ignored him and headed for the backyard, needing a moment of peace. The yard was even more overgrown than she’d realized, with weeds climbing up the sides of the house and the faint smell of damp earth hanging in the air.

As she wandered around, she noticed a small shed in the far corner of the yard. The door was slightly ajar, swaying gently in the breeze. Curious, she walked over and peeked inside.

The shed was empty except for a few broken gardening tools and a pile of old newspapers. But something about it felt… wrong. The air was heavy, almost stifling, and Lourdes had the distinct feeling she was being watched.

“Lourdes!”

She jumped and turned to see Yara standing a few feet away, her arms crossed.

“What are you doing out here?” Yara asked.

“Nothing,” Lourdes said quickly. “Just looking around.”

Yara raised an eyebrow but didn’t press. “Well, come on. Malachi just texted me. He wants to meet up tonight.”

Lourdes groaned. “Do we have to?”

“Yes,” Yara said, grabbing her arm and pulling her toward the house. “You need to get out of here before you go crazy. Trust me.”

That evening, the sisters stood in front of the mirror in their shared room, getting ready. Yara wore her favorite ripped jeans and a cropped hoodie, while Lourdes had opted for something simpler—a plain black sweater and jeans.

“You look like you’re going to a funeral,” Yara said, wrinkling her nose.

“Maybe I am,” Lourdes muttered.

“Whatever. Let’s go.”

They walked to the basketball court a few blocks away, where Malachi and his friends were waiting. The court was lit by a single flickering streetlight, casting long shadows across the cracked pavement.

“Yara!” Malachi called, grinning as he jogged over.

“Malachi,” Yara said, her voice soft and sweet.

Lourdes hung back, feeling out of place as Yara introduced her to the group. Malachi’s friends—Donte, Deontay, and Alex—were lounging near the hoop, laughing and cracking jokes.

“This is Lourdes,” Yara said, dragging her sister forward.

“Hey,” Lourdes said awkwardly, giving a small wave.

“Hey,” Alex said, his voice low and calm. He was tall and quiet, with dark eyes that seemed to notice everything.

“So, what do you think of Trenton so far?” Donte asked, leaning against the fence.

“It’s… different,” Lourdes replied.

“Yeah, you’ll get used to it,” Deontay said with a shrug. “Ain’t much to do here, though, except hoop and hang out,” Deontay finished.

“Sounds thrilling,” Lourdes said dryly, earning a chuckle from Alex.

Yara was already deep in conversation with Malachi, her voice full of energy as she leaned closer to him. Lourdes felt a pang of irritation but kept it to herself. She leaned against the fence, half-listening to the others talk, when Alex sidled up next to her.

“First night in Trenton, and you’re already regretting it, huh?” he asked, his tone light.

“You can tell?” Lourdes replied, smirking slightly.

“Let’s just say you’ve got that ‘get me out of here’ look down.”

Lourdes laughed softly. “You’re not wrong. This whole move feels… weird.”

Alex tilted his head, his expression curious. “Weird how?”

Before she could answer, Yara interrupted, calling over from where she stood with Malachi. “Hey, Lourdes! Mal says he’s got a friend who works at Hamilton North. Maybe you can ask him about the track team!”

Lourdes flushed, embarrassed by Yara’s sudden interest in her social life. “That’s… great,” she said, forcing a smile.

“You run track?” Alex asked, his tone genuinely interested.

“Yeah,” Lourdes said. “Well, I used to. I haven’t done much since… everything happened.”

Alex nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Hamilton North’s team isn’t bad. Coach McKinney’s tough, but fair. If you’re serious about it, I can put in a word.”

Lourdes blinked, surprised. “You know him?”

“Yeah. I ran track last year before I got busy with… other stuff,” Alex said vaguely.

“Thanks. I’ll think about it,” Lourdes said, offering him a small smile.

The conversation shifted, and soon the group was laughing and joking like old friends. Lourdes found herself relaxing, even enjoying the company, though she couldn’t shake the lingering unease from earlier.

When the sisters returned home later that night, the house was quiet. The lights were off except for a faint glow coming from the kitchen.

“Mom must’ve gone to bed,” Yara said, kicking off her shoes by the door.

Lourdes nodded, but something about the silence felt wrong. She wandered toward the kitchen, her steps slow and cautious.

The faint glow came from a lamp on the counter, illuminating a stack of papers and an open notebook. Lourdes leaned closer, her eyes scanning the handwriting. It was their mother’s journal.

She hesitated before flipping to the first page. The entries were disjointed, full of scribbled notes and random dates.

“Rosa’s health is worse. Must leave next week.”

“Chaz insists we stay together, but I’m not sure it’s safe anymore.”

“I miss Harlem. I miss Chloe. This house feels heavy with ghosts.”

Lourdes’s stomach tightened. What did her mother mean by “not safe”? And why would she mention Harlem and Chloe, especially like that?

“Lourdes, come on,” Yara whispered from the doorway, startling her.

“I was just…” Lourdes trailed off, closing the journal quickly.

“Mom’s not gonna like you snooping,” Yara said, her tone light but her expression serious.

Lourdes nodded, but as she followed her sister upstairs, her thoughts lingered on the journal.

That night, Lourdes couldn’t sleep. The creaks and groans of the old house felt louder in the darkness, each one setting her nerves on edge.

She stared at the ceiling, her mind racing with questions she didn’t know how to ask. Why had their mother insisted on this move? What secrets was she keeping? And why did this house—this whole town—feel so suffocating?

As the hours stretched on, Lourdes drifted into a restless sleep, haunted by dreams of shadowy figures and distant screams.

Somewhere deep in her mind, she knew the truth was buried here—beneath the surface, beneath the lies.

And it was only a matter of time before it came clawing its way out.

Chapter 4: Buried Shadows

The morning light filtered through the thin curtains, casting a pale glow over the room. Lourdes sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the journal she’d taken from the kitchen. She had grabbed it late last night when Yara was asleep, unable to resist the nagging pull of her curiosity.

She opened it again, flipping past the earlier entries about Rosa’s illness and Chaz moving in. Toward the back, the writing became more erratic, the sentences disjointed and scribbled.

“I hear footsteps at night, but everyone is asleep.”

“The shed… I can’t bring myself to clean it out. Too many memories.”

“If they knew the truth, they’d never forgive me.”

Lourdes’s heart pounded in her chest. What truth? What was their mother hiding?

“Lourdes!” Yara’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She quickly shoved the journal under her pillow.

“What?” Lourdes called, trying to sound casual.

“Come on, we’re helping Mom and Chaz clean up the yard. She’s freaking out about the state of the flowerbeds.”

Lourdes sighed and got up, glancing one last time at the journal before heading downstairs.

The backyard was buzzing with activity. Chaz was mowing the overgrown grass while their mother directed Joshua and Xavier, handing them gardening tools that were clearly too big for them.

“Lourdes, take this,” their mother said, handing her a pair of gloves and a small spade.

“What are we doing?” Lourdes asked, slipping on the gloves.

“Weeding,” her mother said with forced cheerfulness. “This yard is going to be beautiful again, just like it used to be.”

Lourdes kneeled near the edge of the flowerbed and began pulling out weeds, her thoughts drifting back to the journal.

“Why does it even matter what the yard looks like?” Yara muttered beside her, yanking at a particularly stubborn root. “We’re not hosting a garden party.”

“It’s not about that,” their mother said sharply, overhearing. “It’s about pride. This house deserves to be taken care of.”

Lourdes frowned, glancing at her mother. “Why do you care so much about this place? It’s just a house.”

Their mother hesitated, her expression faltering for a moment before she smiled tightly. “It’s more than a house, Lourdes. It’s part of our family now.”

Lourdes exchanged a look with Yara, who rolled her eyes.

As the day wore on, the sun climbed higher, and the work grew tedious. Lourdes wiped the sweat from her forehead, her gaze drifting toward the shed in the far corner of the yard.

It stood silent and weathered, the door slightly ajar just as it had been the day before. A chill ran down her spine despite the heat.

“Lourdes,” Chaz called, breaking her trance. “Come help me clear out this mess near the shed.”

She hesitated before standing and walking toward him. As she got closer, the air seemed heavier, the earthy smell of the backyard turning almost sour.

“What’s the deal with this shed?” Lourdes asked as they began clearing away overgrown weeds and broken branches piled against its side.

“It used to be a workshop or something,” Chaz replied, tossing a branch into the wheelbarrow. “Mom doesn’t talk about it much. Said it belonged to the people who lived here before us.”

Lourdes glanced at the shed, unease bubbling in her chest. “Didn’t anyone clean it out before we moved in?”

Chaz shrugged. “Doubt it. Why?”

“No reason,” Lourdes said quickly, turning back to the pile of debris.

But her curiosity only grew.

That night, after everyone had gone to bed, Lourdes slipped out of her room. She padded down the creaky staircase, the house eerily quiet except for the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen.

The journal was tucked under her arm. She wasn’t sure why she brought it with her—maybe for courage, or maybe because it felt like the key to whatever secrets the house was hiding.

She unlocked the back door as quietly as she could and stepped outside. The cool night air prickled her skin, and the yard seemed far more ominous in the dark.

The shed loomed ahead, its door swaying slightly in the breeze.

Lourdes hesitated at the threshold, gripping the edges of the door. The air inside was stale, heavy with the smell of damp wood and decay. She fumbled for the flashlight on her phone and shone it into the darkness.

The space was empty except for a rusted workbench and a pile of old tarps in the corner. But as Lourdes stepped inside, the floor creaked under her weight, and she froze.

The sound wasn’t coming from her.

She shone her flashlight toward the back of the shed. The tarps shifted slightly, as if something was beneath them.

Her breath caught in her throat.

“Hello?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

There was no response, but the air seemed to thicken, pressing down on her chest. She took a step forward, reaching for the edge of the tarp.

“Lourdes!”

She jumped and spun around, her flashlight beam swinging wildly. Yara stood in the doorway, her arms crossed and her expression furious.

“What are you doing out here?” Yara hissed.

“I—” Lourdes started, but she couldn’t find the words.

Yara grabbed her arm, dragging her out of the shed. “Are you insane? Sneaking out here in the middle of the night? Mom will kill you!”

“I had to know,” Lourdes said, her voice trembling.

“Know what?”

Lourdes hesitated, glancing back at the shed. “There’s something wrong with this house, Yara. And Mom knows it. She’s hiding something.”

Yara sighed, her anger fading into exasperation. “Look, I don’t know what you think you’re going to find, but digging around in that creepy old shed isn’t going to help.”

Lourdes looked down at the journal clutched in her hands. “I think it might.”

Yara’s eyes narrowed. “What is that?”

“Mom’s journal,” Lourdes admitted reluctantly.

Yara groaned. “You’re seriously snooping in her private stuff now?”

“She wrote about the shed,” Lourdes said quickly. “She wrote about… other things too. Weird things.”

Yara stared at her, her expression unreadable. Finally, she sighed. “Fine. But if you’re going to keep digging, you’re not doing it alone.”

Lourdes nodded, relief washing over her. Whatever secrets the house held, they were going to uncover them—together.

Yara crossed her arms, glaring at Lourdes as the cool night air swirled around them. “So? What does it say? What’s so ‘weird’ about Mom’s journal?”

Lourdes hesitated, glancing down at the notebook clutched in her hands. “It’s… hard to explain,” she said quietly. “She writes about hearing things—footsteps at night. She mentions the shed, but never in detail. It’s like… like she’s scared of it.”

Yara’s expression shifted, her irritation fading into something softer, something closer to worry. “Scared of the shed? Why would she—”

A faint sound interrupted her. Both girls froze, their eyes darting toward the shed.

It was a low creak, like wood bending under weight, followed by what sounded like a faint thud.

“Did you hear that?” Lourdes whispered.

Yara’s jaw tightened. “I don’t think we should—”

But Lourdes was already moving. She turned back toward the shed, her phone flashlight trembling in her hand. “We have to look,” she said, her voice firmer now.

“Lourdes, wait!” Yara hissed, following reluctantly.

They stepped back into the musty darkness, the air heavy with damp and rot. The beam of Lourdes’s flashlight swept over the workbench, the cobwebbed corners, the tarps that still lay crumpled in the back.

The shed was eerily still.

“I swear I heard something,” Lourdes murmured, stepping closer to the pile of tarps.

“Let’s just go,” Yara said, her voice shaking slightly.

Ignoring her, Lourdes crouched down and carefully lifted the edge of the top tarp. Dust and dirt puffed into the air, making her cough, but there was nothing underneath but a rusted toolbox.

She exhaled sharply, a mix of relief and disappointment.

“See? It’s just junk,” Yara said, her tone almost hopeful.

But then, Lourdes’s flashlight beam caught something else—a faint discoloration on the floorboards beneath the tarps. She moved the rest of the pile aside, revealing a patch of wood that looked… different.

It was lighter, newer, as if it had been replaced recently.

“Why would someone fix just this one part of the floor?” Lourdes asked, her voice low.

Yara frowned, leaning closer. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s—”

The creak came again. Louder this time.

Both girls jumped, their eyes snapping toward the shed door, which swayed slightly as if pushed by a breeze.

Except there was no breeze.

“Lourdes,” Yara said urgently, grabbing her sister’s arm. “We need to go back inside. Now.”

Lourdes wanted to argue, but the fear in Yara’s voice was enough to make her pause. She glanced one last time at the strange patch of floorboards before nodding.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

Back inside the house, the sisters locked the back door behind them, the tension still thick between them.

Yara slumped into a chair at the kitchen table, running a hand through her hair. “This is insane,” she muttered.

Lourdes sat across from her, the journal resting between them. “I don’t think it is,” she said quietly. “Mom knows something about that shed. And whatever it is, it’s not good.”

“So what do we do?” Yara asked, her voice edged with frustration. “It’s not like we can just ask her. She’ll freak if she finds out we were out there.”

Lourdes thought for a moment, her fingers tracing the edge of the journal. “Maybe we don’t have to ask her,” she said slowly.

Yara raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

“There’s more in here,” Lourdes said, tapping the notebook. “If we can figure out what she’s hiding, maybe we can make sense of everything.”

Yara sighed, leaning back in her chair. “And if we can’t?”

Lourdes didn’t answer. She didn’t want to admit it, but part of her was terrified of what they might find.

That night, Lourdes stayed up reading the journal, her eyes scanning every entry for clues. Most of it was mundane—grocery lists, notes about the boys, reminders to call Rosa. But then she found something.

“The day we moved in, I thought I saw her.”

“She was standing near the shed, just like before. But it’s not possible. It can’t be her.”

Lourdes’s pulse quickened. Who is “her”?

She flipped the page and found more scribbled notes, barely legible.

“I should’ve told the girls about Chloe.”

“She didn’t run away. I know what happened to her, but I can’t say it out loud.”

“If they find out… they’ll never forgive me.”

The words sent a chill down Lourdes’s spine. Chloe. Their cousin. The one who had disappeared years ago.

Her hands trembled as she closed the journal, her mind racing.

Yara was right about one thing: they couldn’t confront their mother. Not yet. But Lourdes couldn’t let this go. She had to know the truth—about Chloe, about the shed, about everything.

And deep down, she knew this was only the beginning.

Chapter 5: Unraveling Threads

The morning after their late-night exploration, Lourdes couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. It was as if the house itself was holding its breath, waiting for her to uncover the truth. Her thoughts kept circling back to Chloe—the cousin who had vanished years ago without a trace. The one their mother refused to talk about. And now, in her journal, their mother had alluded to her, as if the mystery was still very much alive.

Lourdes glanced at Yara as they sat at the kitchen table, both picking at their breakfast. Their mother had gone out early to visit Rosa, leaving the house unusually quiet.

“We need to talk about Chloe,” Lourdes said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Yara looked up, her brow furrowed. “What do you mean? I thought we agreed we wouldn’t—”

“I know, but—” Lourdes paused, lowering her voice as if the walls might be listening. “I found something in Mom’s journal. She wrote about Chloe. She… she said she didn’t run away.”

Yara blinked, her fork halting midair. “What are you talking about? Mom’s been saying for years that Chloe just left, and it’s not like we ever got any answers.”

“I know, but she’s hiding something. She said she knows what happened to Chloe, but she won’t say it. She’s too scared.” Lourdes felt the knot in her stomach tighten. She had to know more, even if it meant pushing further into the darkness that their mother had tried to bury.

Yara was silent for a long moment, her eyes narrowing. “Do you think that’s why we’re here? Why we moved into this house?”

“I don’t know,” Lourdes admitted, feeling a mixture of fear and anger rising in her chest. “But I think it has something to do with that shed. And the way she won’t talk about it. She’s hiding something, Yara. I’m sure of it.”

Yara hesitated, clearly torn. “You know she’ll flip if we try to dig into this. She’s been so stressed since we moved here. And what if you’re wrong?”

“I don’t think I am,” Lourdes said quietly. “Something happened to Chloe. And I think it’s connected to this house. We need to find out what.”

Yara looked down at her plate, as though considering the consequences. Then, finally, she sighed. “Fine. But we do it carefully. We can’t just go barging in and asking questions. If we’re going to do this, we need to be smart about it.”

Lourdes nodded. She had no intention of letting their mother know they were snooping around. Not yet, anyway. They had to gather more evidence, more clues, before they made their next move.The days that followed were a blur of half-hearted attempts at normalcy. Lourdes and Yara continued their routine—school during the day, chores around the house, and quiet, furtive conversations whenever they found a moment alone. But every time Lourdes passed the shed in the backyard, her stomach tightened.

The floorboards in the shed. The strange patch of wood. What was underneath it?

On Thursday afternoon, as the sun began to dip lower in the sky, Lourdes grabbed her jacket and slipped out the back door, Yara trailing behind her.

“We can’t keep avoiding it,” Lourdes said, glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one was watching. “The shed. I have to know what’s inside it.”

“Why now?” Yara asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” Lourdes said, her voice low but urgent. “I feel like we’re getting closer to something, and if we don’t act now, it’s going to slip through our fingers. We’re already this far in.”

They reached the shed, the darkness of the evening already settling over the yard. The air was thick, heavy with tension, and the shed seemed to loom larger in the shadows. Lourdes felt her heartbeat quicken as they approached.

The door creaked open with a faint protest, and Lourdes’s flashlight beam sliced through the darkness.

“Do you hear that?” Yara asked, her voice tight.

Lourdes didn’t answer. She was too focused on the shed’s interior, her eyes scanning the worn walls. The rusted toolbox, the cobwebs in the corners, the tarps piled haphazardly in the back.

But it wasn’t until she shone the light on the floorboards that she felt her blood run cold.

The patch of wood they had noticed before—it was gone.

In its place was a large, freshly covered area of dirt. The floor had been dug up, and the earth was soft and damp.

“No,” Lourdes whispered, her breath catching in her throat. “This is… this is it.”

Yara stared at the ground, her eyes wide with disbelief. “What do we do now?”

“We dig.”

Lourdes grabbed the shovel they had left leaning against the wall and knelt beside the patch of dirt. Her hands trembled as she sank the blade into the ground, the soil giving way more easily than she had expected. The air smelled earthy, thick with the scent of dirt and decay.

Each scoop felt heavier, more suffocating than the last. Yara didn’t say anything as she stood behind Lourdes, her face pale, her expression unreadable.

And then, suddenly, the shovel clinked against something hard.

Lourdes stopped, her breath catching in her throat. She cleared more dirt away, her hands shaking. As the light from the flashlight revealed more of the object, Lourdes’s stomach twisted.

It was a box. A large, wooden box.

“Holy—” Yara started, but Lourdes put a hand over her mouth.

Lourdes’s heart pounded in her chest as she gently pried the box from the earth, her eyes fixed on it, the anticipation rising. She set it on the ground, her hands trembling as she reached for the lid.

She hesitated.

Was this really a good idea? What if they opened it and found something that they couldn’t undo?

But there was no going back now. With a sharp breath, Lourdes lifted the lid.

Inside the box were papers, old and yellowed with age. They seemed to have been wrapped in a piece of cloth, tied tightly with string. But as she pulled it open, her eyes widened in shock.

There, at the very top of the pile, was a photograph—a photograph of Chloe.

It was an old picture, one Lourdes had never seen before. In it, Chloe was standing in front of a barn, her smile wide, but there was something unsettling about her eyes—something lost.

Lourdes’s hand trembled as she pulled the photograph from the box, the truth hitting her like a punch to the gut.

Chloe hadn’t just disappeared.

She had been here. And whatever happened to her was buried in this yard.

Lourdes held the photograph in her hand, her pulse racing as she stared at Chloe’s smiling face. It was so familiar, yet distant, like a piece of a puzzle that didn’t quite fit. She turned it over carefully, as if the back might reveal some clue, some piece of the puzzle that made sense of the darkness surrounding their family. But the back was blank, no words, no explanation. Just silence.

“Lourdes,” Yara said, her voice shaking. “What is it? What did you find?”

Lourdes didn’t respond right away. She carefully set the photograph aside and reached into the box, pulling out the cloth-wrapped bundle. It was heavier than she expected, the fabric worn and frayed at the edges, as though it had been handled countless times.

“Lourdes, we need to go back inside,” Yara said again, her tone urgent. “We can’t keep doing this. Someone might find us out here.”

Lourdes glanced at her sister, but her focus remained on the bundle in her hands. “I can’t, Yara. We’re so close. I have to know what this is.”

Yara’s face was pale, her eyes wide with fear. “What if it’s too much? What if we’re digging up things we’re not supposed to know?”

“I have to know,” Lourdes repeated, her voice firm. She could feel the weight of the truth pressing down on her. They’d come this far, and there was no going back. Not now.

Lourdes unwrapped the bundle carefully, her fingers trembling. As the cloth unraveled, she found old papers—folded letters, yellowed with age, and a small, tarnished key. Her heart raced as she picked up the first letter and opened it.

The handwriting was familiar, but it took Lourdes a moment to recognize it. It was their mother’s.

“I know what I did,” the letter began. “I’ve been keeping it from you all these years, but I can’t anymore. I can’t live with the guilt. I have to tell someone. I have to tell you, Lourdes.”

Lourdes swallowed hard, her throat tight. She scanned the rest of the letter quickly, her eyes darting from line to line. There was no doubt now—this was their mother’s confession.

“Chloe didn’t leave. I didn’t let her. I… I did things I can never take back. I thought I could bury it, but I was wrong. The shed, the box, the key—it’s all there. It’s all buried under our feet, and if you want to know the truth, you have to dig deeper.”

Lourdes felt a cold chill sweep over her as the weight of those words sank in. Their mother—she was admitting it. She was confessing to something terrible.

“What does it mean?” Yara whispered, her voice barely audible. She was standing just behind Lourdes now, her hands pressed against her mouth, as if she were afraid to breathe too loudly.

Lourdes could hardly answer. The letter was heavy, and the key, small and tarnished, felt like a symbol of everything they had lost. She looked down at it, then at the photograph of Chloe. Her cousin. The girl who had disappeared, the one their family had pretended was lost to time. The truth had been buried in this backyard all along.

“We need to keep going,” Lourdes said, barely above a whisper. Her voice felt foreign to her own ears—shaky, filled with dread, but with an undeniable determination. “The shed. It’s all in the shed.”

Yara shook her head. “We can’t, Lourdes. We can’t keep digging up the past like this. What if Mom finds out? What if she—”

“I don’t care anymore,” Lourdes snapped, surprising even herself with the venom in her voice. “I need to know the truth. All of it. And I need to make sure it doesn’t stay buried any longer.”

She shoved the letter and the key into her pocket, her eyes fixed on the shed. The moonlight was now casting long shadows across the yard, and Lourdes could feel the weight of it pressing on her chest. She knew they were getting closer—closer to something terrible, something that had been hidden for years.

Without another word, she turned and made her way toward the shed. Yara followed her, reluctant but determined.

They reached the door, and Lourdes stopped just short of opening it. She glanced back at Yara, whose face was pale but resolute. “Are you sure about this?” Yara asked softly.

Lourdes nodded, taking a deep breath. “We’ve come this far. We can’t turn back now.”

With trembling hands, Lourdes reached for the handle and pulled the door open. The scent of old wood and damp earth filled the air as the beam of the flashlight cut through the darkness. The shed was unchanged—silent and still. But to Lourdes, it felt like a tomb. A place where secrets had been locked away, waiting to be uncovered.

She stepped inside, her boots crunching softly against the floor as she moved toward the spot where they had uncovered the dirt earlier. The air was thick with the scent of earth, as though the ground itself was trying to keep its secrets hidden. Lourdes knelt down, her fingers brushing over the dirt, feeling the coolness of it beneath her fingertips.

“Lourdes,” Yara whispered, her voice trembling. “This isn’t right.”

Lourdes ignored her, pulling the dirt away with frantic urgency. She didn’t stop to think about the consequences. She didn’t stop to wonder what their mother would do if she found out what they were doing. All that mattered was the truth. The truth that had been buried for far too long.

The ground gave way more easily than she expected, and soon, she was able to uncover the corner of something—a corner of wood. She grabbed the shovel and started digging with renewed fervor, pushing the dirt aside until the box was fully visible.

Her heart hammered in her chest as she carefully pried it open. The hinges squeaked with age, but it gave way, revealing what lay inside.

A small, old journal—like the one their mother had kept—and a handful of photographs. Some of them were old, faded, but others were recent. And among them, there was one that took Lourdes’s breath away.

It was a photograph of their mother, standing beside a man Lourdes didn’t recognize, her smile strained. But it wasn’t the man that caught her attention. It was the look in their mother’s eyes. A look of fear.

Lourdes’s fingers trembled as she picked up the photo. She flipped it over and found a note scrawled on the back in their mother’s handwriting.

“I never meant for it to go this far. I never meant for anyone to get hurt. But now, it’s too late.”

Lourdes’s breath hitched as the reality of what she was seeing settled in. This wasn’t just about Chloe. This wasn’t just about the past.

This was about their family—and the dark secret that had been buried beneath their feet for years.

Chapter 6: Unseen Forces

The night seemed to press down on Lourdes with an intensity she hadn’t anticipated. As she clutched the photograph, the journal, and the note, she could feel the weight of her mother’s secrets bearing down on her. She’d expected answers, but the more she uncovered, the more questions grew. What had their mother gotten herself involved in? Who was the man in the photo, and why had their mother looked so terrified?

Lourdes swallowed hard, trying to steady her shaking hands as she looked up at Yara. Her sister was pale, her lips pressed into a thin line. The air between them was thick, the reality of what they had just uncovered settling over them like a fog.

“We can’t keep doing this,” Yara whispered. “What if we’re wrong? What if this is something we’re not meant to know?”

Lourdes opened her mouth to respond, but the words stuck in her throat. She wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince Yara—or herself.

“We can’t turn back now,” Lourdes finally said, her voice barely audible. “I need to know what happened. We need to understand what’s been going on. Chloe didn’t just disappear. And neither did Mom. Not the way she says.”

Yara shook her head, her face drawn with worry. “But what if we’re digging ourselves deeper into something we can’t get out of? You saw her face when she found out we were snooping. She’s scared, Lourdes. What if there’s more to this than we realize?”

Lourdes took a deep breath, her chest tightening with the weight of their discovery. She could feel the pull of their mother’s secret like a magnet, drawing her in. But there was also fear—a deep, primal fear—that gnawed at her insides. What if uncovering the truth meant unleashing something dark and dangerous?

“I don’t know, Yara,” Lourdes admitted, her voice low. “But we can’t let it go. If we do, we’re just going to live in the dark forever. We deserve to know the truth. The whole truth.”

Yara was silent, and for a moment, Lourdes thought her sister might leave, might walk away from this madness. But then, Yara nodded.

“Okay,” Yara said softly. “We do this together. But we do it carefully. We can’t let Mom find out, not yet.”

Lourdes nodded, feeling a small sense of relief wash over her. She wasn’t alone in this.

The next day, the house felt suffocating. Every creak of the floorboards, every shift in the air, seemed to echo in Lourdes’s ears. Their mother had returned, and Lourdes couldn’t shake the feeling that they were running out of time. The answers were in their hands, and they were so close, yet so far from understanding.

She had no choice but to keep digging, but every step forward felt like it took them deeper into a trap.

Later that evening, as the sun dipped behind the trees, Lourdes found herself sitting in the living room, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of the journal. The note, the photograph, the pieces were all scattered around her on the coffee table. She knew they had to go through it all, piece it together. But there was a sense of dread building in her chest. Something told her that what she was about to find would change everything.

Yara came in quietly, carrying a tray with two glasses of water. “I brought you something,” she said, setting the tray down beside Lourdes. “You look like you could use a break.”

Lourdes forced a smile, grateful for the brief moment of normalcy. “Thanks.”

Yara sat beside her, glancing at the scattered papers on the table. “Are you sure we should be doing this? We don’t even know where this will lead.”

Lourdes met her sister’s eyes. “I don’t know where it’ll lead, but we can’t stop now. We can’t just pretend nothing happened. We owe it to Chloe, to all of us.”

Yara hesitated before speaking again. “What if it’s too much? What if we find something we can’t handle?”

Lourdes thought for a moment. She didn’t have an answer. But she knew they couldn’t back down now. They had to keep moving forward, even if it meant facing the darkest parts of their family’s past.

They spent the next few hours going through the journal, the photographs, and the letters. The more they read, the more the picture began to form. Their mother’s handwriting was shaky in places, as if she had written the words while her hands trembled with fear.

Lourdes’s eyes skimmed the pages, heart pounding as she pieced together fragments of a story she hadn’t even known existed. Her mother’s words painted a picture of someone desperate to escape—someone trapped in a situation far beyond their control. It wasn’t just about Chloe. It was about their entire family. And the more Lourdes read, the more it became clear that their mother had been hiding something far darker than she’d ever let on.

The final letter Lourdes found sent a chill down her spine.

“I couldn’t save her. Chloe… she was the one who knew too much. I was forced to choose. And now it’s too late to undo what I’ve done. But if you’re reading this, Lourdes, you need to know. You need to understand why I did it. And you need to find out what happened before it’s too late. If you stay, they’ll come for you, too.”

Lourdes stared at the letter, her hands trembling as she held it up for Yara to read. Her sister’s face went pale as she read the words, her lips trembling.

“Mom… did this?” Yara whispered, her voice shaking.

Lourdes didn’t know how to answer. The words in the letter were clear, but the reality of it was too much to grasp. Their mother had been part of something far darker than they had ever imagined. And if they didn’t find out what that was, they might end up like Chloe—caught in a web of secrets and lies that could consume them.

“We need to go to the police,” Yara said suddenly, her voice full of resolve. “We can’t do this alone. We need help.”

Lourdes shook her head. “No. If we go to the police, we’ll lose everything. Mom will never forgive us. And she’ll never tell us the truth.”

Yara’s eyes widened. “What are you saying? You want to keep this all to ourselves?”

“I’m not saying that,” Lourdes said quickly. “But we need to figure this out on our own. We need to find the whole truth, not just parts of it. And then we can decide what to do with it.”

Yara was silent for a long moment. “Okay,” she finally said, her voice heavy. “But we need to be careful. We don’t know who we’re dealing with here.”

Lourdes nodded. She didn’t know who they were up against. But she was sure of one thing: the truth was out there, and no matter the cost, she was going to find it.

The next day, Lourdes woke to the sound of footsteps, It was her mom. The house was once again full of the heavy air of unspoken words. But Lourdes felt a shift inside her. She was no longer afraid. She was no longer waiting for answers. She was determined to get them.

And if her mother wouldn’t tell her, then she would find them on her own.

The truth was waiting for her, and nothing—not even their mother—could stop her now.

As Lourdes and Yara sat in the living room, piecing together fragments of their mother’s hidden life, the front door creaked open. Their heads snapped toward the sound, both of them freezing as heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway. Their mother appeared, her face drawn and weary, her eyes narrowing as she saw the papers strewn across the coffee table.

“What’s going on?” her mother demanded, her voice sharp and guarded.

Lourdes instinctively shoved the photograph under the journal, but it was too late. Their mother’s gaze darted to the scattered documents, her expression shifting from irritation to panic.

“Where did you get those?” she asked, stepping closer, her voice trembling now.

Lourdes stood, shielding the table with her body. “Mom, why didn’t you tell us about Chloe? About what really happened?”

Their mother’s face went pale, and she reached out to steady herself against the wall. “You don’t understand,” she whispered. “You shouldn’t be looking into this. It’s not safe.”

“Not safe?” Yara snapped, her voice shaking with anger. “What’s not safe, Mom? The truth? We’re tired of the lies. We deserve to know!”

Their mother sank into a chair, burying her face in her hands. For a moment, she said nothing, the silence in the room stretching unbearably. When she finally looked up, tears shimmered in her eyes.

“You don’t understand what I’ve done,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I had no choice. I was trying to protect you.”

“Protect us from what?” Lourdes pressed. “From who?”

Their mother’s lips trembled, and she shook her head. “You don’t want to know. The less you know, the safer you’ll be.”

Lourdes’s heart pounded in her chest. The fear in her mother’s eyes was real, but it only fueled her determination. “Mom, we already know too much to stop now. Whatever you’re afraid of, we can handle it. But we can’t keep living like this. Please. Tell us the truth.”

Their mother hesitated, her eyes darting between her daughters. She seemed to be weighing her options, torn between protecting them and finally unburdening herself. After what felt like an eternity, she let out a shaky sigh.

“There are people… powerful people,” she began, her voice unsteady. “They don’t forgive. They don’t forget. And Chloe… she got too close to them. She found out things she wasn’t supposed to know. I tried to save her, but…” Her voice broke, and she covered her mouth, tears streaming down her face.

“But what?” Yara demanded, her voice cracking.

Their mother shook her head, unable to continue. “I can’t say more. If I do, they’ll come for all of us.”

“They already have!” Lourdes shouted, her frustration boiling over. “Look at what this has done to us! Chloe is gone, and we’re left to pick up the pieces. Don’t you think we deserve answers?”

Their mother’s shoulders slumped, and she looked older than Lourdes had ever seen her. “I wanted to keep you safe,” she murmured. “But you’re right. You deserve to know.”

She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a whisper. “There’s a man… his name is Victor. He runs an organization, one that doesn’t leave loose ends. Chloe uncovered something about him, something dangerous. I don’t even know what it was. All I know is that when she tried to expose him, she disappeared. And if you keep digging, he’ll come for you too.”

The room fell silent, the weight of her words settling over them like a heavy blanket. Lourdes felt a chill run down her spine. This wasn’t just about family secrets anymore. It was something much bigger, something far more dangerous than she had imagined.

“What do we do now?” Yara asked, her voice trembling.

Their mother looked at them, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and resolve. “You stop. You destroy everything you’ve found and forget about this. It’s the only way to stay safe.”

But Lourdes knew she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t turn away, not now. Not when the truth was so close.

As their mother retreated to her room, her shoulders sagging under the weight of her confession, Lourdes turned to Yara. “We can’t let this go,” she said, her voice firm.

Yara hesitated, then nodded. “If we’re going to do this, we need to be smart. And we need help.”

Lourdes thought of Alex, of his quiet strength and unwavering loyalty. He would help them. He had to.

“We’ll figure it out,” Lourdes said, determination hardening her voice. “Whatever it takes, we’ll get to the bottom of this. For Chloe. For us.”

As the sisters sat in the dimly lit room, the journal and photograph still on the table between them, Lourdes knew one thing for certain: they were in deeper than ever, but there was no turning back now.

Chapter 7: Silent Allies

The morning after their mother’s confession, Lourdes felt the tension in the air like a storm waiting to break. She couldn’t shake the image of her mother’s face—drawn, desperate, and terrified. The name Victor echoed in her mind. If what her mother said was true, they were up against something far darker than she had anticipated.

Still, giving up wasn’t an option. She and Yara had come too far.

After a tense breakfast where no one spoke much, Lourdes decided it was time to reach out to someone who could help. She grabbed her phone and stepped outside onto the back porch. The cold morning air bit at her skin, but she welcomed the clarity it brought.

She called Alex.

“Hey, Lourdes,” Alex’s voice came through, warm and familiar. “What’s up?”

“Alex,” she began, her voice low. “I need to talk to you. It’s serious.”

There was a pause on the other end. “How serious?”

Lourdes hesitated, glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one was listening. “I can’t explain everything over the phone. Can you meet me at the park near my house? Around noon?”

“Of course,” Alex said, his tone shifting to concern. “I’ll be there.”

At noon, Lourdes and Yara walked to the park. The autumn leaves crunched beneath their feet as they approached the small bench near the swing set. Alex was already there, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket.

“You look worried,” he said as Lourdes and Yara sat down.

“Worried doesn’t even cover it,” Yara muttered, glancing nervously around the park.

Lourdes took a deep breath and started explaining everything—the strange tension in their family, the disappearance of their cousin Chloe, the journal, and finally, their mother’s revelation about Victor.

Alex listened in silence, his brow furrowed in concentration. When Lourdes finished, he leaned back and exhaled slowly.

“Victor,” he repeated. “That name rings a bell.”

Lourdes blinked in surprise. “You’ve heard of him?”

Alex nodded. “There are rumors, stories. My dad’s always said that there are people in this town you don’t mess with. Victor’s one of them. He’s… dangerous.”

Yara crossed her arms. “We’ve gathered that much. But what do we do? We can’t just walk away from this.”

Alex thought for a moment. “If you’re going to keep digging, you need to be smart about it. You can’t do this alone.”

“We’re not asking you to put yourself in danger,” Lourdes said quickly. “But if you know anyone who can help…”

Alex nodded. “There’s someone. My cousin works in tech—security systems, hacking, stuff like that. If anyone can dig up dirt on Victor without getting caught, it’s her.”

“Do you trust her?” Yara asked.

“With my life,” Alex said without hesitation.

That evening, Alex brought his cousin Marisol to Lourdes and Yara’s house. Marisol was sharp-eyed and confident, with a no-nonsense attitude that immediately put Lourdes at ease. She set up her laptop on the dining room table, her fingers flying over the keys as she worked.

“So,” Marisol said, her eyes never leaving the screen. “Victor is a ghost. No digital footprint, no social media, no records. That alone tells me he’s connected to some serious underground stuff. People like him don’t stay hidden unless they have the resources to erase themselves.”

Lourdes frowned. “Then how do we find him?”

Marisol smirked. “Even ghosts leave shadows. Give me a few hours.”

As Marisol worked, the rest of them huddled in the living room, waiting. The tension was palpable. Their mother was out again, and Lourdes couldn’t help but feel like time was slipping away.

Finally, Marisol called them back to the dining room.

“I found something,” she said, her tone serious.

She turned the laptop toward them, revealing a grainy black-and-white photograph. It was old, but the man in the picture was unmistakable.

“That’s him,” Lourdes said, her heart racing.

Marisol nodded. “His full name is Victor Delacroix. He’s tied to a network of illicit operations—money laundering, human trafficking, you name it. But there’s one thing that stands out. A few years ago, he acquired a property about twenty miles from here. It’s listed as abandoned, but people say there’s activity there at night.”

Yara’s eyes widened. “You think that’s where Chloe—”

“It’s possible,” Marisol said. “But if you’re thinking of going there, you need to be careful. If Victor really is tied to this, you don’t want to walk into his territory unprepared.”

Lourdes clenched her fists. The thought of confronting Victor terrified her, but the idea of doing nothing was even worse.

“What do we do now?” Yara asked.

Alex stepped forward. “We check out the property. Carefully. But we don’t go in blind. We gather information, see if there’s anything that connects this place to Chloe.”

“And then?” Lourdes asked.

“Then we figure out how to bring him down,” Alex said.

Lourdes looked at her sister, then back at Alex and Marisol. For the first time, she felt like they had a chance—a real chance—to uncover the truth and get justice for Chloe.

But deep down, she also knew that whatever they were about to face would change everything.

“We’re in,” Lourdes said, her voice steady. “Let’s do this.”

The group spent the next hour discussing a plan. Marisol pulled up a satellite map of the property Victor Delacroix owned, pointing out potential entry points and places to remain hidden if they needed to stake out the area.

“This is the property,” she said, tracing the screen with her finger. “It’s in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by forest on three sides. There’s only one road leading in, which makes it both a blessing and a curse. Easy to watch for cars, but also easy to be trapped if things go south.”

“We’re not going in tonight,” Alex said firmly, glancing at Lourdes and Yara. “This is recon only. We’ll take my car, park a good distance away, and approach on foot. If we see anything suspicious, we report back. No risks.”

Lourdes nodded, but her stomach churned at the thought of being so close to Victor’s stronghold. Just imagining the man her mother had described filled her with dread.

“What if someone sees us?” Yara asked, her voice tight.

“We make sure no one does,” Alex replied. “We’ll dress dark, stay quiet, and move carefully. We can’t afford to be noticed.”

By midnight, the group was ready. Lourdes and Yara dressed in black hoodies and jeans, their faces pale but determined. Alex had packed flashlights, gloves, and a pair of binoculars, while Marisol stayed behind to monitor police and emergency channels from her laptop.

“Text me every thirty minutes,” she instructed. “And if anything happens—anything—you call me immediately. I’ll get help.”

“Got it,” Alex said as they headed for the door.

The drive to Victor’s property was tense. The winding road cut through dense woods, the darkness outside the car windows impenetrable. Lourdes stared out at the trees, her mind racing. What would they find? And what if they were caught?

“Hey,” Alex said, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. “We’ll be fine. Stick to the plan.”

Lourdes nodded but didn’t trust herself to speak.

They parked a mile away from the property and walked the rest of the way in silence. The cold air bit at Lourdes’s face, but she barely noticed. Every crunch of leaves beneath their feet made her heart jump, and the eerie stillness of the woods only amplified her anxiety.

When they reached the edge of the property, Alex signaled for them to crouch behind a cluster of bushes. He pulled out the binoculars and scanned the area.

The house stood in the middle of a large clearing, a hulking, decrepit structure with broken windows and sagging walls. But despite its abandoned appearance, a faint light glowed from one of the downstairs windows.

“There’s someone inside,” Alex whispered, handing the binoculars to Lourdes.

She peered through them, her hands shaking. The glow came from a single room near the back of the house. She could just make out the silhouette of a figure moving inside.

“Someone’s there,” she confirmed, passing the binoculars to Yara.

Alex frowned. “Stay here. I’m going to get closer and see if I can hear anything.”

“No way,” Lourdes hissed. “We stick together.”

“It’s too risky,” Alex said. “If I go alone, there’s less chance of us all getting caught. Just stay low, and don’t move.”

Before she could argue, he slipped away, moving silently through the underbrush.

Lourdes clenched her fists, every instinct screaming at her to follow him. Beside her, Yara shifted nervously.

“I hate this,” Yara muttered.

“Me too,” Lourdes whispered, her eyes locked on the house.

Minutes passed like hours. Then, suddenly, Alex reappeared, crouching low as he hurried back to them. His face was pale, his expression grim.

“There’s more than one person in there,” he said, his voice barely audible. “I heard at least two voices. They’re arguing about something—something about ‘the shipment’ being delayed.”

“What shipment?” Lourdes asked, her stomach sinking.

Alex shook his head. “I don’t know. But whatever it is, it’s important to them. We need to get out of here before they notice us.”

As they prepared to retreat, a sharp sound cut through the night—a dog barking.

“Crap,” Alex hissed. “They have dogs.”

The barking grew louder, followed by the sound of a door slamming. A flashlight beam swept across the yard, coming dangerously close to their hiding spot.

“Run,” Alex whispered urgently.

The three of them bolted, keeping low as they sprinted back toward the woods. The barking grew louder, joined by angry shouts.

“They’re following us!” Yara cried, her voice high with panic.

“Keep going!” Alex urged, his voice steady.

Lourdes’s lungs burned as they ran, her mind racing. She could hear the dogs getting closer, their snarls echoing through the trees.

Just when she thought they wouldn’t make it, Alex veered sharply to the left, leading them into a dense thicket. He pulled them down behind a fallen tree, motioning for silence.

The dogs barked furiously nearby, but the thick undergrowth seemed to confuse them. After a tense few minutes, the sound of barking began to fade.

When the forest fell silent again, Alex finally spoke. “We’re clear. Let’s get back to the car.”

By the time they reached the car and drove away, Lourdes’s hands were still trembling.

“That was too close,” Yara said, slumping back in her seat.

“But we learned something,” Alex said. “Victor’s not just hiding out—he’s running some kind of operation. And if we can figure out what it is, we might have a way to stop him.”

Lourdes nodded, though her mind was still reeling. They had come so close to being caught. But Alex was right—they were one step closer to the truth.

As they pulled into Lourdes’s driveway, Marisol was waiting for them on the porch, her arms crossed.

“What happened?” she demanded.

“We found Victor’s operation,” Alex said. “And we’re going back.”

Marisol’s eyes widened. “You’re insane.”

“No,” Lourdes said, her voice steady. “We’re determined. And we’re not stopping until we take him down.”

Chapter 8: Unraveling Secrets

The tension from the night before still lingered as Lourdes, Yara, Alex, and Marisol sat in the living room the next morning. The events at Victor’s property weighed heavily on all of them, but they knew they couldn’t stop now.

Marisol had been poring over her laptop since sunrise, her fingers flying across the keyboard. “You were right about last night. Victor’s definitely running an operation out of that house,” she said. “The place is flagged on some old government files—something about suspected activity years ago. But nothing ever came of it. It’s like he has someone on the inside keeping him protected.”

Alex leaned forward. “What kind of activity?”

“Smuggling,” Marisol replied. “But it’s vague. Drugs, weapons, people… it could be anything.”

Yara rubbed her arms, her expression uneasy. “So what now? We can’t just barge in there, and we can’t call the police without proof.”

Lourdes nodded. “If Victor has connections, the police might tip him off before they even investigate.”

“Which is why we need more than just rumors,” Alex said. “We need evidence.”

Marisol frowned. “Getting evidence isn’t going to be easy. You’re dealing with someone who’s covered his tracks for years. If he’s running a smuggling ring, he’s got people protecting him, maybe even locally. We need to figure out who’s working with him.”

A knock at the door interrupted their conversation, and everyone froze.

“Expecting anyone?” Alex whispered.

Lourdes shook her head, her pulse quickening. She stood and walked cautiously to the door, peeking through the peephole. Relief washed over her when she saw Chaz standing on the porch, his expression as grim as ever.

“It’s just Chaz,” she said, opening the door.

Her brother stepped inside, his eyes immediately scanning the room. “What’s going on? Mom told me you’re acting strange, and I got worried.”

Lourdes exchanged a look with Yara. They hadn’t told Chaz much about their investigation, partly because they didn’t know how he’d react. But now, it seemed they had no choice.

“Chaz,” Lourdes began, closing the door behind him. “We need to tell you something. And it’s… a lot.”

As they recounted everything—from Chloe’s disappearance to their mother’s confession about Victor—Chaz’s expression shifted from confusion to anger.

“Victor Delacroix,” he muttered, pacing the room. “I thought that name sounded familiar. I overheard Dad talking about him years ago, back when I was a teenager. He said something about Victor being bad news, but he wouldn’t explain.”

“You think Dad knew something?” Yara asked.

Chaz shrugged. “Maybe. But if he did, he never said much. All I know is, Victor’s name came up during one of their fights, and Mom freaked out. It was the first time I ever saw her cry like that.”

Lourdes felt a chill run down her spine. Their mother had been hiding this secret for years, and now it was unraveling in ways none of them could have expected.

“Do you think Mom knows more than she’s letting on?” Yara asked.

“Definitely,” Chaz said. “But getting her to talk about it won’t be easy.”

Alex spoke up. “If she’s scared, it’s for a reason. Victor has people everywhere—he’s not just some local criminal. If she’s been keeping this quiet for years, she must think talking will put her or us in danger.”

“Then we’ll keep digging,” Lourdes said firmly. “We’ll find the evidence we need to take Victor down.”

Chaz crossed his arms. “If you’re serious about this, I’m in. But we do it my way—carefully. No more sneaking around his property. You’re going to get yourselves killed.”

Lourdes nodded. “We’ll be careful. But we’re not stopping.”

That night, Marisol made another breakthrough.

“Look at this,” she said, motioning for everyone to gather around her laptop. She had pulled up a series of transactions tied to a shell company linked to Victor. “This company is a front—it doesn’t do anything legitimate. But it’s been moving huge amounts of money through offshore accounts.”

“Okay,” Alex said. “But what does that mean?”

“It means Victor’s hiding something big,” Marisol replied. “And I think I just found where.”

She clicked on another file, revealing the schematics for a warehouse about ten miles from the property they had scouted the night before.

“This warehouse is owned by the same shell company,” Marisol explained. “It’s been flagged for unusual activity, but again, no investigations. If Victor’s smuggling anything, it’s probably going through here.”

Lourdes stared at the screen, her mind racing. “So if we can get into the warehouse, we might find the proof we need.”

“It’s a long shot,” Marisol warned. “But it’s your best chance.”

Chaz frowned. “You’re not going in there alone. If this place is active, it’s going to be crawling with people.”

“Then we’ll figure out a way to stay out of sight,” Alex said. “We’ll do recon first, like we did last night. No risks, no direct confrontation.”

Yara shook her head. “This is getting way too dangerous.”

“I know,” Lourdes said quietly. “But if we don’t do this, who will?”

The plan was set. The next night, they would stake out the warehouse and look for anything that could connect Victor to Chloe—or to whatever operation he was running.

As they prepared for the mission, Lourdes felt a mix of fear and determination. Every step brought them closer to the truth, but it also brought them closer to danger.

For the first time, she realized there might not be a way to do this without putting their lives on the line.

But she also knew there was no turning back now.

Chapter 9: Into the Lion’s Den

The group gathered at Alex’s house the next evening, the tension palpable. The warehouse was their best lead yet, but the risks were undeniable. Lourdes couldn’t shake the image of Victor’s cold eyes or the memory of the snarling dogs from their last encounter.

“Are we sure about this?” Yara asked, pacing the room. She hadn’t sat down since they arrived. “The property was one thing, but a warehouse could be crawling with guards. What if this is a trap?”

“It’s not a trap,” Alex said firmly. “Victor doesn’t know we’re onto him. This is about gathering evidence, not confronting anyone.”

“Still,” Chaz interjected, “we need to be smarter this time. Last night was too close. We’ll split up to cover more ground, but no one goes in without backup.”

Yara groaned, clearly uncomfortable, but Lourdes stepped forward. “We can do this. We’ll stay quiet and careful. If anything feels off, we leave immediately.”

Marisol tapped on her laptop. “I hacked into the local traffic cams around the warehouse. It’s been active every night this week—trucks coming and going. If we’re going to see something incriminating, tonight’s the night.”

An hour later, they were parked a safe distance from the warehouse. The area was eerily quiet, except for the faint hum of machinery and the occasional rumble of a truck engine.

The warehouse was massive, its exterior illuminated by harsh floodlights. Armed guards patrolled the perimeter, their shadows stretching across the gravel yard.

“Great,” Yara muttered from the backseat. “Armed guards. Just what we needed.”

“We’ll stay out of their sight,” Alex said, scanning the area with binoculars. “We’re not going inside unless we absolutely have to. The goal is to observe and document.”

Lourdes adjusted the black hoodie she was wearing, trying to steady her breathing. She glanced at Chaz, who gave her a reassuring nod.

“Let’s move,” Chaz said.

They crept through the shadows, sticking close to the treeline surrounding the warehouse. The cold night air stung Lourdes’s face, but she barely noticed. Her focus was on staying silent and unseen.

Alex signaled for them to stop near a pile of abandoned crates. From their vantage point, they could see the main loading dock where trucks were being loaded with large, unmarked crates.

“See that?” Alex whispered, pointing. “Those crates are being moved without any labels or paperwork. That’s not normal.”

Lourdes pulled out her phone and began recording. The grainy footage showed workers hurriedly loading the crates while a man in a dark suit barked orders nearby.

“Who’s that?” Yara asked, squinting at the man in the suit.

Chaz frowned. “He looks familiar… Wait, I’ve seen him with Victor before. He’s one of Victor’s lieutenants.”

Lourdes zoomed in on the man’s face, her hands shaking. This was it—the evidence they needed to prove Victor was running an illegal operation.

As they continued to watch, a black SUV pulled into the lot. Lourdes’s heart sank when she saw who stepped out.

Victor.

He was dressed in a tailored coat, his posture exuding confidence and power. He spoke briefly with the man in the suit before turning to inspect the crates being loaded onto the truck.

“We need to go,” Yara hissed, her voice trembling.

“Not yet,” Alex said, his eyes fixed on the scene. “This is the proof we’ve been waiting for.”

Victor’s voice carried faintly over the hum of the machinery, his tone sharp and commanding.

“Make sure this shipment gets out tonight,” he said. “We can’t afford another delay. The client is already on edge.”

“Understood, boss,” the man in the suit replied.

Lourdes felt a surge of anger. Victor spoke so casually, as if he wasn’t ruining lives with whatever was in those crates. She wanted to scream, to run down there and confront him, but she forced herself to stay still.

Then something unexpected happened.

Victor’s gaze shifted, and for a moment, he seemed to look directly at their hiding spot.

“Did he see us?” Yara whispered, panic rising in her voice.

“No,” Alex said quickly. “But we’re not sticking around to find out. Let’s move.”

The group began retreating, keeping low as they moved back toward the treeline. But just as they reached the safety of the trees, a shout rang out.

“Hey! Over there!”

A flashlight beam cut through the darkness, landing just inches from Lourdes’s feet.

“Run!” Alex yelled.

They bolted, weaving through the trees as the sound of heavy footsteps and barking dogs echoed behind them. Lourdes’s lungs burned as she sprinted, her heart pounding in her ears.

“This way!” Chaz shouted, leading them toward a narrow creek bed.

They splashed through the icy water, hoping to throw off the dogs. The shouts grew fainter, but Lourdes didn’t slow down until Alex grabbed her arm.

“We’re clear,” he said, breathing heavily.

The group huddled together, their clothes soaked and their faces pale. No one spoke for a long moment.

Finally, Yara broke the silence. “That was insane. We could’ve died.”

“But we didn’t,” Lourdes said, her voice steady. “And now we have what we need.”

Alex nodded. “That video is enough to get someone to take us seriously. It’s time to go to the authorities.”

Lourdes’s stomach twisted. Going to the authorities felt like the logical next step, but a part of her still hesitated. Victor’s reach was long, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that they were about to cross a line they couldn’t uncross.

“Let’s get back to Marisol,” Chaz said. “We’ll figure out our next move there.”

As they made their way back to the car, Lourdes couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder, half-expecting to see Victor emerging from the shadows.

She didn’t know what scared her more—what they had discovered or the realization that Victor would stop at nothing to keep his secrets buried.

Chapter 10: The First Move

The drive back to Alex’s house was tense and silent. Lourdes sat in the backseat, gripping her phone tightly as if the video she’d recorded could vanish at any moment. Yara leaned against the window, her arms crossed, her face pale. Chaz and Alex exchanged grim glances up front, but no one dared to speak until they pulled into the driveway.

Once inside, Marisol immediately noticed the shaken expressions on their faces. “What happened?” she asked, her tone urgent.

“Victor was there,” Lourdes said, her voice trembling. “And he almost saw us.”

Marisol’s eyes widened. “What? Did he recognize you?”

“No,” Alex said firmly. “We got out before he could. But they had guards, dogs… the place is locked down tight.”

“And it’s worse than we thought,” Lourdes added. She handed her phone to Marisol. “Watch this.”

The group crowded around Marisol as she played the video. The footage was shaky but clear enough to show Victor, his lieutenant, and the unmarked crates being loaded onto trucks. When Victor’s voice echoed through the recording, Marisol froze.

“Make sure this shipment gets out tonight,” Victor’s voice commanded. “We can’t afford another delay. The client is already on edge.”

Marisol paused the video and looked up. “This is huge. You’ve just connected Victor to some kind of illegal operation.”

“But what do we do with it?” Yara asked, her tone sharp. “We can’t exactly walk into the police station with this and expect them to take down someone like Victor.”

“She’s right,” Chaz said. “Victor’s got connections. If we hand this over to the wrong person, it could get buried—or worse, he could find out it was us.”

Marisol frowned, clearly deep in thought. “We need someone higher up. Someone who isn’t in Victor’s pocket.”

“Like who?” Alex asked.

Marisol hesitated before answering. “I’ve been looking into this for a while. There’s an FBI field office two towns over. They specialize in organized crime. If anyone can take Victor down, it’s them.”

The room fell silent as everyone considered her suggestion. Lourdes’s stomach churned at the thought of involving federal agents, but she knew Marisol was right. If they wanted to stop Victor, they needed help.

“Okay,” Lourdes said finally. “How do we get in touch with them?”

The next morning, Marisol made contact with the FBI, using an encrypted email account she had set up for situations like this. She sent a brief message explaining that they had evidence linking Victor Delacroix to illegal smuggling activities. She attached the video as proof and requested an urgent meeting.

It didn’t take long for a response to come through. The agent assigned to the case, a man named Agent Thomas Greer, agreed to meet them that afternoon at a neutral location—a coffee shop on the outskirts of town.

“I don’t like this,” Chaz muttered as they drove to the meeting. “What if this guy is working with Victor? We could be walking into a trap.”

“We don’t have a choice,” Lourdes said. “We can’t take Victor down on our own.”

When they arrived at the coffee shop, Lourdes spotted Agent Greer immediately. He was sitting at a corner table, dressed in a plain gray suit, his demeanor calm but focused.

“Stay alert,” Chaz whispered as they approached.

Agent Greer stood as they arrived, extending his hand. “Lourdes, Marisol. Thank you for coming. I’m Agent Greer.” His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it—a sense of urgency.

Lourdes shook his hand, her palms sweaty. “Thank you for meeting with us.”

They sat down, and Marisol wasted no time pulling out her laptop. “The video we sent you—did you watch it?”

Greer nodded, his expression serious. “I did. And you’re right—this is significant. Victor Delacroix has been on our radar for years, but we’ve never had concrete evidence to move forward. What you’ve given us changes that.”

“So what happens now?” Alex asked.

“We build a case,” Greer said. “The video is a start, but we need more. We need to identify the contents of those crates, track the shipments, and tie Victor to the larger operation. That means more surveillance, more evidence.”

Lourdes’s stomach sank. “So you’re saying it’s not enough?”

“I’m saying it’s a piece of the puzzle,” Greer replied. “And with your help, we can complete it. But this isn’t going to be quick or easy. Victor is dangerous, and if he finds out you’re working with us—”

“We know the risks,” Lourdes interrupted. “We’ve been living with them.”

Greer studied her for a moment, then nodded. “All right. If you’re willing to help, I’ll provide you with the tools you need. But you have to be careful. One wrong move could put you—and anyone around you—in danger.”

As they left the meeting, Lourdes felt a mix of relief and fear. They finally had someone on their side, someone who could bring Victor down. But the stakes were higher than ever.

“Do you think we can trust him?” Yara asked as they got back into the car.

“I don’t know,” Lourdes admitted. “But we don’t have a choice.”

Chaz started the engine. “Then we’d better be ready. Because once this starts, there’s no going back.”

As they drove away, Lourdes couldn’t help but glance in the rearview mirror, half-expecting to see Victor’s SUV trailing behind them.

The game had changed, and they were no longer playing by their own rules. But one thing was certain: the fight against Victor was far from over.

Chapter 11: The Cost of Secrets

The group returned to Alex’s house, where the weight of their decision began to settle in. Agent Greer had made it clear that their involvement was critical, but it came with a price—constant vigilance, the looming threat of Victor’s retaliation, and the knowledge that one mistake could cost them everything.

Yara sat on the couch, fidgeting with her hands. “I don’t know about this. I mean, we just handed our lives over to the FBI. What if Greer can’t protect us?”

“Yara,” Chaz said, his voice steady, “we’ve been in danger since the day Victor walked into our lives. At least now we have someone who can help.”

“But it’s not just us,” Yara shot back. “What about the people around us? Malachi, Mom, even Marisol’s family? Victor doesn’t play fair. If he finds out, he’ll go after everyone we care about.”

The room fell silent. Lourdes knew Yara was right. Victor didn’t have limits, and they had just painted a target on their backs.

That night, Lourdes sat in her room, staring at her phone. She had texted her mom earlier, but the reply she got back was short and vague—a typical response lately. Ever since Victor had wormed his way back into their lives, her mother had become increasingly distant, retreating into a shell Lourdes didn’t recognize.

Lourdes scrolled through her messages until she found one from Alex.

Alex: You okay?

Lourdes: Not really. You?

Alex: No. But we’ll get through this.

She sighed and put the phone down. She didn’t know how much more of this she could take. Every day felt like a balancing act, and the slightest misstep could send everything crashing down.

A knock on the door startled her. “Come in,” she called.

Marisol stepped inside, her face a mix of exhaustion and determination. She held a flash drive in one hand and her laptop in the other.

“I’ve been digging,” Marisol said, closing the door behind her. “Victor’s operation is bigger than we thought.”

Lourdes sat up, her heart racing. “How much bigger?”

Marisol opened her laptop and plugged in the flash drive. “I traced the trucks from the warehouse. They’ve been making regular stops at three other locations in the state. One of them is a dockyard.”

“A dockyard?” Lourdes’s stomach churned. “He’s smuggling things in from overseas?”

“It looks like it,” Marisol confirmed. “But it’s not just goods. I found chatter on a dark web forum about people being moved through these networks.”

Lourdes felt sick. “You’re saying Victor is trafficking people?”

Marisol nodded grimly. “I think so. And if that’s true, we’re dealing with something way bigger than just Victor. He’s just a cog in a much larger machine.”

The next morning, the group reconvened at Alex’s house. Marisol shared her findings, and the mood turned somber.

“This isn’t just about taking Victor down anymore,” Alex said. “If he’s involved in trafficking, we have a responsibility to stop it.”

“Responsibility?” Yara snapped. “We’re not law enforcement, Alex. We’re just kids trying to survive.”

“And what happens if we don’t do anything?” Lourdes interjected. “Victor keeps ruining lives, and we’ll have to live with knowing we could’ve stopped him.”

Chaz leaned forward, his expression serious. “We need to get this information to Greer. If we’re right, this could be enough to launch a full-scale operation.”

They met with Agent Greer again that afternoon, this time in a secluded park. Marisol handed over the flash drive, her face set with determination.

“This has everything we’ve found,” she said. “Locations, truck routes, connections to the dockyard. If Victor is part of a trafficking ring, this will lead you to it.”

Greer’s expression darkened as he reviewed the files on his laptop. “This is… significant,” he said after a moment. “But it’s also dangerous. If Victor catches wind of this, he won’t hesitate to retaliate.”

“We know,” Lourdes said. “But you said you needed more evidence. This is it.”

Greer nodded. “You’ve done good work. I’ll take this back to my team and start building the case. But you need to lay low for now. If Victor finds out you’ve been feeding us information…”

He didn’t need to finish the sentence. They all knew what Victor was capable of.

That night, Lourdes lay in bed, unable to sleep. Her mind raced with questions and fears. Had they done enough? Would the FBI be able to take Victor down before he found out about their involvement?

As she stared at the ceiling, her phone buzzed on the nightstand. She grabbed it, her heart skipping a beat when she saw the message.

Unknown Number: You think you’re safe? You’re not. I’m watching.

Her blood ran cold. She stared at the message, her hands trembling. Victor knew.

Lourdes sat up, her breath coming in short gasps. The walls of her room seemed to close in around her.

This was no longer a fight to expose Victor. It was a fight to survive.

The next morning, Lourdes woke up to an uneasy quiet in the house. She hadn’t slept much, her mind replaying the chilling message she’d received. She hadn’t told anyone yet, unsure of how to even start that conversation. Her phone sat heavy in her pocket, like a ticking bomb she couldn’t defuse.

Downstairs, she found Yara and Marisol sitting on the couch, speaking in hushed tones. Alex and Chaz were in the kitchen, their voices barely audible over the sound of coffee brewing. Everyone was tense, their nerves stretched thin after the meeting with Greer.

“Anything new?” Lourdes asked, taking a seat beside Yara.

“Not yet,” Marisol replied. “Agent Greer said they’re moving quickly, but cases like this take time.”

“Time we might not have,” Yara muttered, earning a sharp look from Marisol.

Before Lourdes could say anything, the doorbell rang. Everyone froze.

“Who could that be?” Alex whispered, his hand instinctively reaching for the knife on the counter.

Chaz approached the door cautiously, peeking through the peephole. His entire body tensed as he pulled back, his face pale.

“It’s dad,” he said, looking at Lourdes.

Her heart sank. “What?”

“He’s out there,” Chaz said. “And he’s not alone.”

Lourdes scrambled to her feet, panic rising in her chest. “Did he see you?”

Chaz shook his head. “No, but he’s not leaving. He’s banging on the door now.”

The pounding on the door grew louder, followed by a familiar voice that sent chills down Lourdes’s spine.

“Open this door right now, or I’ll break it down!”

“Why is he here?” Yara whispered, her voice trembling.

“We can’t let him in,” Alex said firmly. “He’ll know something’s up.”

But before anyone could respond, Chaz’s phone buzzed. He looked at the screen, his expression darkening.

“It’s him,” Chaz said, holding up the phone.

“Don’t answer,” Lourdes said quickly.

“He’ll know we’re here if I don’t,” Chaz countered, swiping to answer the call. He put the phone on speaker.

“Chaz!” their father’s voice boomed. “I know you’re all in there. Open the door, or I’ll start making a scene. You know I’m not bluffing.”

Chaz hesitated, glancing at the others. Lourdes felt her stomach churn. If their father was here, it wasn’t just a random visit. He wanted something—and she had a sinking feeling it had to do with Victor.

Finally, Chaz opened the door a crack, just enough to face their father.

“What are you doing here?” Chaz asked, his tone cold.

Their father, Marco, grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “What, I can’t visit my kids?” His gaze shifted past Chaz, scanning the room. “Where are your sisters?”

“They’re not here,” Chaz lied. “What do you want?”

Marco’s grin faded, replaced by a menacing glare. “Don’t play games with me, boy. I heard some interesting things about what you and your little friends have been up to. You’ve been sticking your noses where they don’t belong.”

Lourdes’s breath caught. How much did he know?

“What are you talking about?” Chaz asked, trying to sound calm.

“Don’t act stupid,” Marco snapped. “You think Victor doesn’t know you’ve been spying on him? He’s not happy, and neither am I. Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you’ve brought down on this family?”

Chaz didn’t respond, but Lourdes saw the tension in his jaw.

Marco stepped closer, his voice lowering. “Victor gave me one chance to fix this. You’re going to tell me everything you’ve been doing—every meeting, every move you’ve made—or so help me, I’ll make you regret it.”

Lourdes couldn’t stay hidden any longer. She stepped into view, her heart pounding. “You’re the one who brought trouble into this family,” she said, her voice shaking but defiant.

Marco’s eyes narrowed as he saw her. “Lourdes. Always the mouthy one. You don’t know what you’re getting into, girl. Victor doesn’t just punish mistakes—he erases them.”

“We’re not afraid of him,” Lourdes shot back, though her voice wavered slightly.

“You should be,” Marco said, his tone icy. “And you should be afraid of me, too. Now, tell me—what did you give the feds?”

Lourdes froze, her worst fear confirmed. Marco knew about their meeting with Agent Greer.

“We didn’t give them anything,” she said quickly, trying to sound convincing.

Marco studied her, his lips curling into a sneer. “You’re a terrible liar, just like your mother. But you’re smart enough to know what happens if you cross Victor. So I’ll give you one last chance. Tell me everything, and maybe I can convince him to let you live.”

Yara suddenly stepped forward, her face pale but determined. “We’re not telling you anything. You’re just a pawn to Victor, and you know it. If he’s so powerful, why are you the one running errands for him?”

Marco’s face darkened, and for a moment, Lourdes thought he might strike Yara. But instead, he laughed—a low, menacing sound that made her blood run cold.

“You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that,” Marco said. “But guts won’t save you. If you won’t help me, then you’re on your own. When Victor comes for you—and he will—you’ll wish you’d listened.”

He turned and walked out without another word, slamming the door behind him.

The room was silent for a long moment before Alex spoke. “We need to call Greer. Now.”

Lourdes nodded, her hands trembling. Their father had just confirmed what they feared most: Victor knew. And now, the clock was ticking.

Chapter 12: The Clock Starts Ticking

The air in the house felt suffocating after Marco left. Lourdes sat on the edge of the couch, her hands trembling as she dialed Agent Greer’s number. Yara paced back and forth, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, while Alex stood by the window, peering out as if Marco might still be lurking.

“Agent Greer,” Lourdes said when he answered. Her voice shook despite her attempt to stay calm. “My dad knows. He came to the house—he knows we’re working with you.”

There was a pause on the other end, followed by Greer’s calm but firm voice. “Are you all safe? Is he still there?”

“He left,” Lourdes said. “But he’s not going to stop. He said Victor knows what we’re doing.”

Another pause. Greer sighed, and when he spoke again, his tone was heavier. “This changes everything. I need all of you to stay put. I’ll send a team to secure your location.”

Yara stopped pacing. “Send a team? What does that mean? Are we in more danger now?”

Greer didn’t answer her directly. “Victor doesn’t take betrayal lightly. If your father knows, there’s a chance Victor will act sooner rather than later. We’ll talk more when I get there. Just don’t leave the house.”

The line went dead, and Lourdes lowered the phone, feeling the weight of Greer’s warning settle over her.

The group huddled in the living room, tension thick in the air.

“This is bad,” Yara said, her voice breaking. “Victor knows. He’s not going to wait for us to make another move—he’s going to come for us.”

“We knew this would happen eventually,” Chaz said, though his tone was far from confident. “But we’re not alone. The FBI is involved now. They’ll protect us.”

“And what if they don’t?” Yara snapped. “Victor has people everywhere. How do we know someone in Greer’s team isn’t working for him? What if—”

“Stop!” Lourdes said, her voice louder than she intended. Yara fell silent, looking at her with wide eyes. “Panicking isn’t going to help. We just need to stick together and trust that Greer knows what he’s doing.”

Alex spoke for the first time. “What if we didn’t wait for Victor to make the next move? What if we went after him?”

Everyone turned to him, stunned.

“Are you out of your mind?” Marisol asked. “He’s expecting us to hide. If we confront him, we’re walking right into a trap.”

“Maybe,” Alex admitted. “But right now, we’re sitting ducks. If we wait too long, he’ll come to us—and we won’t be ready.”

Yara shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this. You think we can take on someone like Victor? We’re not soldiers, Alex!”

“We don’t have to fight him,” Alex said. “But we can gather more evidence, find out where his weak points are, and feed that information to Greer. The more we know, the better our chances.”

Chaz frowned. “That’s risky, man. What if we get caught?”

Lourdes stood, her mind racing. “Alex is right. We can’t just sit here and wait. But we need to be smart about this. If we make a move, it has to be calculated.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Yara said, holding up her hands. “Are we seriously considering this? We’re just supposed to waltz into Victor’s operation and hope for the best?”

“No,” Lourdes said firmly. “But we know more than he thinks. We’ve already identified the dockyard and the warehouse. If we can find out what he’s moving through those places, we’ll give Greer everything he needs to take him down.”

Marisol hesitated, then nodded. “If we’re careful, we can do it. I’ve already been monitoring the warehouse. There’s a truck scheduled to leave tomorrow night.”

“We could follow it,” Alex suggested. “See where it goes and what it’s carrying.”

“This is insane,” Yara muttered, but she didn’t argue further.

That night, Lourdes couldn’t sleep. Every creak of the house, every shadow outside the window made her heart race. Her father’s words echoed in her mind.

“Victor doesn’t just punish mistakes—he erases them.”

She finally got up and went to the kitchen, hoping a glass of water would calm her nerves. She found Alex already there, staring out the window.

“You okay?” she asked, though the answer was obvious.

He glanced at her and gave a weak smile. “Not really. You?”

“Same.”

They stood in silence for a moment before Alex spoke again. “You don’t have to do this, you know. If it’s too much…”

“I can’t back out now,” Lourdes said quickly. “If we don’t stop him, he’ll just keep ruining lives. And he won’t stop coming for us. This is the only way.”

Alex nodded, though his expression remained troubled.

The sound of a car engine outside made them both freeze. Lourdes moved to the window, her stomach dropping when she saw headlights approaching the house.

“It’s too late for anyone to be visiting,” Alex said, his voice low.

They watched as the car parked across the street. The headlights turned off, but no one got out.

Lourdes’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, her heart sinking when she saw the message.

Unknown Number: You thought I wouldn’t find you? You’re not safe. Not tonight. Not ever.

Lourdes showed the message to Alex, her hands trembling. “He’s here.”

Alex grabbed his phone and texted Chaz and Marisol, who came downstairs a moment later.

“What’s going on?” Chaz whispered.

Lourdes pointed to the car outside. “Victor’s watching us.”

“What do we do?” Yara asked, her voice shaking as she joined them.

Before anyone could answer, the car door opened, and a figure stepped out.

It wasn’t Victor.

It was Marco.

He looked directly at the house, his face cold and unreadable. Then he started walking toward the front door.

Marco’s figure grew clearer under the dim streetlight, his gait steady and deliberate. Lourdes’s pulse quickened, and she instinctively stepped back from the window.

“He’s coming here,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Chaz moved quickly toward the front door, locking it and double-checking the deadbolt. “He’s not getting in. Not without a fight.”

“He doesn’t need to get in,” Alex said, his voice tense. “He just needs to rattle us, and it’s working.”

Yara clutched Lourdes’s arm. “What do we do? Call Greer?”

“No,” Lourdes said after a pause, though fear gripped her. “If Greer sends his team now, Marco will know we’re scared. We can’t let him think he’s in control.”

Marisol grabbed the house phone and hovered over it. “We at least need a backup plan. If he doesn’t leave, we’re calling.”

The doorbell rang, a sharp sound that echoed through the tense silence.

“Open up!” Marco’s voice called, deep and commanding. “I just want to talk, Lourdes. No games this time.”

No one moved.

“Don’t make me break this door down,” Marco said, his voice harder now. “You know I will.”

Lourdes took a shaky breath and stepped forward. “Don’t,” Alex said quickly, grabbing her arm. “You don’t owe him anything.”

“I need to know what he wants,” she said softly, looking him in the eye. “I’ll talk to him, but not alone.”

“I’m coming with you,” Chaz said, his jaw set.

Lourdes nodded. Together, they walked toward the door. Yara and Alex stood behind them, watching closely.

“Stay where I can see you,” Lourdes whispered to Chaz before unlocking the door.

She cracked it open, just enough to meet Marco’s cold gaze. He smirked, his presence as overbearing as ever.

“Smart girl,” he said. “Letting me talk before you do something stupid.”

“What do you want?” Lourdes asked, her voice steadier than she felt.

Marco leaned casually against the doorframe, though his eyes burned with intensity. “I came to give you one last chance. You tell me exactly what you and your little friends are planning with the FBI, and I might convince Victor not to bury you all.”

“We’re not planning anything,” Chaz said firmly, stepping closer to the door.

“Don’t lie to me!” Marco snapped, his calm facade cracking. “Victor knows. He knows everything. And if you think the FBI can protect you, you’re more naive than I thought.”

Lourdes clenched her fists. “If he knows everything, then why are you here? Why isn’t he dealing with us himself?”

Marco’s smirk returned, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Victor likes to delegate. And I don’t mind cleaning up messes. But I’ll tell you this—if you keep pushing, you’ll regret it.”

Lourdes felt a spark of defiance rise within her. “We’re not afraid of you. Or Victor.”

For a moment, Marco’s expression faltered, but he quickly recovered, chuckling darkly. “You should be. You have no idea what’s coming.”

He straightened, his tone turning colder. “This is your last warning. Stay out of Victor’s business, or the next time I come here, I won’t be so friendly.”

With that, he turned and walked back to his car, leaving a heavy silence in his wake.

Once Marco drove away, Lourdes closed the door and leaned against it, her legs threatening to give out.

“He’s bluffing,” Chaz said, though his voice lacked conviction.

“No, he’s not,” Alex said quietly. “He knows something we don’t. And we need to figure out what it is before it’s too late.”

Lourdes looked at Yara, who was pale and visibly shaken. “This isn’t just about Victor anymore. Marco’s involved now, and that makes it personal. We can’t back down.”

Yara swallowed hard but nodded. “What’s the next step?”

“We follow that truck tomorrow night,” Lourdes said, her determination growing despite her fear. “Whatever Victor’s moving through that warehouse is the key to all of this. If we can prove what he’s doing, we’ll have leverage—and maybe a chance to finally end this.”

The room fell silent as the weight of the plan settled over them. No one spoke, but they all knew the truth: the clock was ticking, and one wrong move could cost them everything.

Chapter 13: Truth Unveiled

The house was unusually quiet the next morning, the tension from Marco’s visit still hanging in the air. Lourdes barely slept and sat at the kitchen table with a cold cup of coffee, staring at the clock. Her mom, Camila, should be coming back soon from mama Rosa’s house, and the thought of seeing her right now brought a mix of relief and dread.

By mid-afternoon, Camila’s car pulled into the driveway. Lourdes and Yara exchanged a glance before heading to the door. Chaz, Marisol, and Alex trailed close behind, the group silently preparing for whatever was about to come.

The door opened, and Camila stepped in, her face lighting up when she saw them. “Lourdes! Yara!” She pulled them into a tight hug, her warmth momentarily easing the tension. I’m happy to see you girls.”

“We’re happy to see you too, Mom,” Lourdes said softly, but her voice carried the strain of the last few days.

Camila pulled back, her brow furrowing. “What’s wrong? You all look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Before anyone could answer, Marco’s voice cut through the air. “Welcome home, Camila.”

Camila froze, her face paling as Marco stepped out of the living room. Her eyes darted to him, then back to her children. “What is he doing here?”

“He came last night,” Lourdes said. “Victor knows about us, Mom. Marco said—”

“Enough,” Marco interrupted, his voice firm. “Camila, we need to talk. Alone.”

“No,” Lourdes said, stepping in front of her mother. “If you have something to say, you can say it in front of all of us.”

Camila raised a hand to stop her daughter. “It’s okay, Lourdes.” Her voice was calm, but her hands shook. She turned to Marco. “We’ll talk in the kitchen.”

As they disappeared into the other room, the group exchanged nervous glances. Lourdes strained to hear their voices, but all she caught were muffled words and the occasional sharp tone.

When the door finally opened, Camila emerged alone, her face tight with anger and fear. Marco was gone.

“Mom, what did he say?” Yara asked.

Camila shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re all in danger.”

“Yeah, we know that already,” Lourdes said, her frustration bubbling over. “What we don’t know is why Victor cares so much about us. Why does he see us as a threat?”

Camila hesitated, her eyes welling with tears. “Because he knows what you’re capable of. And because of what happened to Chloe.”

At the mention of Chloe, the room fell silent. Lourdes’s heart raced. “What do you mean?”

Camila’s voice broke as she shook her head. She sank into a chair, her shoulders sagging under the weight of the truth. “Victor took her.”

Yara gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “What?”

“She found out what he was doing,” Camila said, her words rushing out like a dam breaking. “She overheard a conversation your uncle Julian and Marco were having on the phone—about Victor’s trafficking ring, about how he was using the warehouses to smuggle girls out of the country. Chloe tried to go to the police.”

Lourdes’s stomach churned. “She tried to stop him?”

Camila nodded, tears streaming down her face. “But Victor found out. He had Marco intercept her before she could talk to anyone. She… she begged her mom and me to help her, but there was nothing we could do. Victor said if I went to the police, he’d kill all of you. And then he… he sold her.”

The room spun around Lourdes as the words sank in. “Sold her?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Camila’s hands trembled as she reached for her daughters. “I never wanted to lie to you, but I had to keep you safe. I thought if we stayed quiet, if we didn’t make waves, Victor would leave us alone.”

“Except he hasn’t,” Chaz said bitterly. “And now he knows we’re trying to take him down.”

“What happened to Chloe?” Lourdes demanded, her voice shaking with anger and heartbreak. “Where is she now?”

“I don’t know,” Camila admitted. “Victor’s men made sure I never saw her again. All I know is that she’s gone. And now he’s afraid you’ll do what she couldn’t—expose him.”

Lourdes’s hands balled into fists. “So this is why Marco keeps showing up. He’s trying to scare us into backing off.”

“Victor doesn’t scare people,” Camila said darkly. “He eliminates them.”

Marisol spoke up for the first time. “We have to stop him. If he’s still trafficking people, we can’t let him get away with it.”

Camila looked at her children, fear etched into every line of her face. “You don’t understand who you’re dealing with. Victor has connections everywhere—police, judges, politicians. He’ll destroy you before you even get close to him.”

“Not if we have the FBI,” Lourdes said. “We’re already working with Agent Greer. We’ve given him enough to start building a case. If we can find more—like the truck leaving the warehouse tonight—we can take Victor down for good.”

Camila shook her head. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Lourdes. Agent Nathan Greer works Victor. He’s playing you.”

“We’re fucked,” Lourdes said firmly. “If we don’t stop him, he’ll keep coming for us. And we can’t let Chloe’s sacrifice be for nothing.”

The room fell silent as Camila stared at her daughter, her expression torn between pride and fear. Finally, she nodded. “If you’re going to do this, then you need to be smart. And you need to be ready for what’s coming. Victor won’t go down without a fight.”

“We’re ready,” Lourdes said, though her voice wavered slightly.

Camila sighed. “Then I’ll help you. But if anything happens to you…” She didn’t finish the sentence, but the pain in her eyes said everything.

As the group began to strategize, Lourdes felt a spark of determination ignite within her. Chloe’s memory fueled her resolve, and for the first time, she felt like they had a real chance to end Victor’s reign of terror.

But deep down, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the hardest battles were still ahead.

Chapter 14: A Secret Ally

Marisol was in the living room, scrolling absentmindedly on her phone while the others poured over maps and notes in the dining room. Her head pounded with the stress of the last few days, and she barely noticed when her phone vibrated in her hand.

The number was unknown.

She frowned, debating whether to answer. After a moment, curiosity won out. “Hello?”

A calm, authoritative voice responded. “Is this Marisol?”

Her grip on the phone tightened. “Who’s asking?”

“My name is Agent Nakita Hiu. I work within a specialized division investigating Victor Santiago’s operations.”

Marisol sat up straighter. “Victor?”

“Yes. I’ve been monitoring your family’s movements for some time now,” Nakita said, her tone steady but not unkind. “We have a common enemy, Marisol, and I believe I can help you.”

Marisol’s heart raced. “How do I know this isn’t some trap? Victor has people everywhere.”

“You’ll know I’m telling the truth because I have information about Chloe.”

Marisol froze, her breath catching in her throat. “Chloe? What about her?”

“She’s alive,” Nakita said, her voice firm but careful. “And I can help reunite her with her family—but only if you do exactly what I say.”

Marisol’s mind spun. Chloe was alive? After all these years? The words felt impossible, but the calm conviction in Nakita’s voice stirred a flicker of hope.

“What do you want?” Marisol asked, her voice trembling.

“First, I need to explain the situation,” Nakita said. “Chloe has been under Victor’s control for years. He sold her into a high-level trafficking ring, but I managed to intercept her transfer during a recent raid. She’s in a safe location, but Victor’s men are actively hunting for her. If I move her without a plan, it’ll put her life—and yours—in even greater danger.”

Marisol’s hand shook as she clutched the phone. “Then why are you calling me? Why not just bring her to us?”

“Because you and everyone else are already deeply entangled in Victor’s web,” Nakita said. “Your recent activities with Agent Greer have escalated his suspicions. Victor knows you’re working against him, and that makes you a liability to Chloe’s safety. If I bring her to you now, it will only paint a target on her back.”

Marisol’s stomach sank. “So what are you saying? That we can’t see her?”

“No,” Nakita said firmly. “I’m saying you’ll see her—but only if you follow my instructions. I need you to gather specific evidence against Victor. Evidence that can’t be dismissed, even by his powerful allies.”

“We’ve already been doing that,” Marisol said, glancing toward the dining room where Lourdes and the others were still strategizing.

“Not like this,” Nakita said. “Victor’s operations run deeper than you realize. There’s a ledger—a physical record of every transaction, every client, every victim. It’s the key to dismantling his entire network. But getting it won’t be easy.”

Marisol frowned. “Where is it?”

“In his private estate outside the city,” Nakita said. “The FBI has been unable to infiltrate it because Victor’s security is airtight. But you might have a way in.”

Marisol’s heart sank. “You want us to break into Victor’s estate?”

“It’s the only way,” Nakita said. “Victor won’t expect you to make such a bold move. And if you succeed, you’ll have the leverage you need to take him down—and to ensure Chloe’s safety.”

Marisol hesitated, her mind racing. “And if we fail?”

“Failure isn’t an option,” Nakita said, her tone sharp. “This is your chance to end this once and for all. To save Chloe and countless others still trapped in Victor’s system. But it’s your decision, Marisol. Do you want my help or not?”

Marisol closed her eyes, the weight of the decision pressing down on her. She thought of Lourdes, Yara, Chaz, and their mom—all of them risking everything to stop Victor. She thought of Chloe, lost and suffering, waiting for someone to save her.

Finally, she opened her eyes. “What do you need us to do?”

“I’ll send you the details,” Nakita said. “And Marisol—tell no one about this call. Not even Agent Greer. The fewer people who know, the safer Chloe will be.”

The line went dead before Marisol could respond.

She stared at her phone, her heart pounding. Chloe was alive. The revelation felt like a lifeline and a curse all at once.

She took a deep breath and stood, tucking the phone into her pocket. The others would have questions, but for now, she had to keep Nakita’s secret.

“Marisol?” Lourdes called from the dining room. “You okay?”

Marisol forced a smile and walked into the room. “Yeah,” she said, her voice steady despite the storm inside her. “Let’s get back to work.”

As the group dove back into their plans, Marisol’s mind raced with Nakita’s words. The ledger. Victor’s estate. Chloe.

The stakes had never been higher, and Marisol knew one thing for sure: there was no turning back now.

The night was thick with tension as the family gathered in the dimly lit living room. Lourdes paced near the window, her nerves on edge. Marisol had insisted they all stay home tonight, claiming there was something important they needed to see. She hadn’t revealed the call from Nakita or what it meant, but her urgency left no room for argument.

Outside, the sound of tires crunching gravel drew everyone’s attention. Lourdes froze, her heart pounding as headlights illuminated the driveway.

“Who’s that?” Yara asked nervously.

Marisol stood by the door, gripping the edge of the frame. “You’ll see.”

The car door opened, and two figures stepped out. One was a petite woman in a sleek black jacket—her dark eyes sharp and assessing. The other was younger, thinner, with blonde hair that looked almost too familiar.

Lourdes’s breath hitched as realization struck. “Chloe?”

The room seemed to freeze as the blonde figure walked closer, her steps hesitant but determined. Her face, though older and worn with exhaustion, still bore the features Lourdes remembered.

“Chloe!” Lourdes ran forward, tears streaming down her face as she wrapped her sister in a tight hug. Yara followed, crying softly as she clung to Chloe’s other side.

“Is it really you?” Camila whispered, stepping closer, her voice trembling.

“It’s me,” Chloe said, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m home.”

The family engulfed her, their joy mingling with disbelief. Chloe clung to them, her own tears falling freely as years of pain and separation melted away in the warmth of their embrace.

After what felt like an eternity, Nakita cleared her throat. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but we need to talk.”

Chloe nodded, her face turning serious as she pulled back from her family. “She’s right. There’s a lot you need to know.”

The family settled into the living room, their attention fixed on Chloe as she began to speak.

“When Victor took me…” Chloe’s voice broke, but she pressed on. “It was worse than I could have ever imagined. He wasn’t just angry—I was a threat to him. He wanted to make sure I paid for what I’d done.”

Lourdes reached for her sister’s hand, her stomach churning at the haunted look in Chloe’s eyes.

“He tortured me,” Chloe continued, her voice trembling. “He beat me, starved me—anything to break me. But I wouldn’t give him what he wanted. I wouldn’t beg.” She paused, swallowing hard. “One night, after weeks of this, he sold me. Not to another trafficker—but to a man named Nathan Greer.”

Chapter 15: The Nightmare Returns

Chloe sat on the edge of the couch, her trembling hands clutching a glass of water as she continued her story. The room was silent except for her voice, heavy with pain and grief.

“When Victor sold me to Nathan Greer, I thought it might be a way out,” she said, her voice shaking. “But I was wrong. He wasn’t any better. For three years, I was forced to work in his house. A maid, a prisoner… I don’t even know what to call it. He controlled everything—when I ate, when I slept. He made it clear I belonged to him.”

Lourdes clenched her fists, her anger boiling over. “That bastard. I swear we’ll make him pay.”

Chloe managed a weak smile. “I thought I’d never get out. But one day, Greer let his guard down. He left the house unattended, and I escaped. I had nowhere to go, no one to trust, but I found Nakita. She’s the one who brought me here.”

Marisol reached over and squeezed Chloe’s hand. “You’re safe now. We’ll protect you.”

Chloe’s gaze dropped to her lap. “Safe… that’s all I’ve wanted to feel for so long.”

Before anyone could respond, a loud crash came from the front door.

The family jumped, their hearts racing as the door swung open violently.

Standing in the doorway was Agent Greer, his eyes wild and his face twisted in fury.

“You thought you could hide from me?” he snarled, stepping into the room with a menacing gait.

“Agent Greer!” Marisol gasped, pulling Chloe behind her instinctively.

“Stay back!” Lourdes shouted, grabbing a lamp from the side table.

Agent Greer laughed darkly. “You think you can stop me with that?” He reached into his jacket, pulling out a gun.

“Run!” Marisol screamed, but he was too fast.

The gunshot rang out, deafening in the small room.

Chloe froze, her eyes widening in shock. Blood bloomed across her chest as she crumpled to the floor.

“NO!” Lourdes screamed, dropping to her knees beside Chloe.

“Chloe! Stay with me!” Marisol cried, pressing her hands to the wound in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding.

But it was too late. Chloe’s body went still, her eyes staring lifelessly at the ceiling.

Agent Greer smirked, his gun still raised. “One down. Who’s next?”

Fury overtook Lourdes as she lunged at Agent Greer, swinging the lamp with all her strength. The blow connected, staggering him momentarily, but it only seemed to fuel his rage.

Agent Greer turned on Lourdes, striking her across the face with the butt of the gun. She fell to the ground, blood spilling from a gash on her temple.

“Lourdes!” Yara cried, rushing toward her sister.

Agent Greer caught Yara by the arm and flung her across the room. She hit the wall with a sickening thud and collapsed to the floor, clutching her ribs in agony.

“Stop it!” Camila screamed, tears streaming down her face as she tried to shield Marisol.

Agent Greer didn’t hesitate. He grabbed Camila by the throat, lifting her off the ground as she gasped for air.

“You think you can defy me? You think you can take Victor down?” he growled, tightening his grip. “You’re nothing but pawns.”

Marisol scrambled to her feet, grabbing a heavy vase and smashing it over Agent Greer’s head. He dropped Camila, roaring in pain as he turned on Marisol.

“You’ll pay for that,” he spat, backhanding her across the face. She stumbled but didn’t fall, her determination keeping her upright.

“Get out,” Marisol said through gritted teeth, blood dripping from her split lip.

Marco laughed coldly. “This isn’t your house.”

As he raised the gun again, a sudden sound of sirens echoed in the distance.

Agent Greer froze, his eyes narrowing. “This isn’t over,” he said, backing toward the door. “You can’t hide from me. I’ll be back.”

With that, he disappeared into the night, leaving behind a shattered family and the lifeless body of Chloe.

Lourdes, battered and bleeding, crawled to her sister’s side, her sobs echoing through the room.

“We couldn’t save her,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

Marisol knelt beside Lourdes, wrapping her arms around her as tears streamed down her face. “We’ll make this right,” she said, her voice trembling with grief and rage. “We’ll stop him. For Chloe. For all of us.”

As the sirens grew louder, the family clung to one another, their pain fueling their resolve. The fight wasn’t over, and now, it was more personal than ever.

Chapter 16: Taken

The night was eerily quiet after the police left, the silence broken only by the occasional shuffle of feet as Marisol tried to clean the bloodstains left behind. Chloe’s body had been taken to the morgue, and the weight of grief hung heavy over the house. Lourdes sat on the couch with Yara, their injuries freshly bandaged. Alex, refusing to leave their side, leaned against the wall, his arms crossed protectively.

“I’ll sleep out here,” Alex said, his tone firm. “Just in case Greer or anyone else tries something.”

Marisol nodded, though her tired eyes betrayed her lingering fear. “Thank you, Alex. We can’t afford to let our guard down.”

As the family retreated to their rooms, Alex stayed by the couch, his eyes scanning the room, searching for shadows that didn’t belong. Lourdes and Yara eventually dozed off, exhaustion overtaking their pain.

But as the clock struck 3 a.m., the calm shattered.

The first sound was the subtle creak of a door. Alex’s head shot up, his muscles tensing. He reached for the baseball bat he’d kept by the couch, but before he could grab it, a gloved hand covered his mouth, yanking him backward.

Lourdes woke to muffled grunts and the sight of masked men dragging Alex toward the door.

“Alex!” she screamed, bolting upright, but two more men appeared, grabbing her before she could reach him.

“Yara! Run!” Lourdes shouted as she kicked and thrashed against her captors.

Yara scrambled off the couch, trying to escape, but one of the men blocked her path. He grabbed her by the arm, his grip like iron.

“Let her go!” Alex roared, struggling against his own restraints.

The men didn’t respond. They moved with precision, forcing the three of them outside to a waiting van. Lourdes caught a glimpse of the driver’s face—a scar across his cheek and cold, lifeless eyes.

Victor.

“Welcome to the next chapter of your nightmare,” he said, his voice calm yet chilling.

As the van doors slammed shut, Lourdes’s screams were muffled by the roar of the engine.

It was the morning after and the sun was just rising when Marisol woke to the sound of frantic knocking on the front door. Her heart raced as she opened it to find Malachi, Donte, and Deontay standing there, their faces etched with concern.

“Where’s Alex?” Malachi asked, his voice sharp.

“He… he stayed in the living room,” Marisol stammered, fear creeping into her chest.

They rushed into the house, calling for Alex, Lourdes, and Yara, but the house was eerily empty.

“They’re gone,” Marisol whispered, her knees threatening to give out.

“What do you mean gone?” Donte asked, his tone rising.

Marisol pointed to the front door, which was slightly ajar. “Someone took them. It has to be Victor.”

Malachi clenched his fists. “We need to find them. Now.”

Deontay pulled out his phone, his fingers flying over the screen. “We can track Alex’s phone. I set up a location-sharing app for emergencies.”

Marisol grabbed his arm. “Do it. Please.”

Deontay nodded, his expression serious. “It’s showing movement. They’re heading south, fast.”

“Victor has them,” Malachi said through gritted teeth. “He’s making his move.”

Marisol’s mind raced. “We need a plan. We can’t go to the police—they already told us they don’t have enough to act on Victor yet. It’s up to us.”

Donte placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “We’ll find them, Marisol. We’ll bring them home.”

Inside the van Lourdes struggled against the ropes binding her hands, her body aching from the earlier fight. Yara sat beside her, tears streaming down her face as Alex tried to comfort them both.

“Stay calm,” Alex whispered, his voice low. “We’ll get out of this.”

Victor turned from the front seat, his eyes gleaming with malice. “Oh, you won’t be going anywhere. You’re valuable leverage now.”

“Leverage for what?” Lourdes spat, her voice full of defiance.

Victor chuckled. “For ensuring your mother and that little FBI friend of hers stay out of my business. If they don’t, well…” He smirked, tapping his gun. “Let’s just say you won’t like the alternative.”

Lourdes glared at him. “You’re a coward. Hiding behind threats and lies.”

Victor’s smile faded, replaced by a cold, dangerous look. “Brave words for someone with no power.”

Alex leaned forward, his eyes blazing. “You won’t get away with this. People are looking for us.”

Victor raised an eyebrow. “Let them look. By the time they find you, it’ll be too late.”

The chase begins as Deontay’s phone beeped as they followed the GPS signal. “They’re heading toward the old warehouses by the docks,” he said.

Malachi hit the gas, his jaw clenched. “Then that’s where we’re going.”

Marisol sat in the backseat, her hands trembling as she clutched a photo of her children. “We have to save them. I can’t lose them, not after everything we’ve been through,” she whispered, her voice cracking with desperation.

“We won’t,” Donte said firmly. “Victor made a mistake coming after family. That’s something you don’t mess with.”

The car sped through the quiet streets, the sun now fully risen but offering no warmth to the icy fear gripping them all.

The van came to a screeching halt outside a dilapidated warehouse by the docks. Victor stepped out first, followed by his men, dragging Lourdes, Yara, and Alex. The smell of saltwater and rust filled the air as seagulls circled overhead, their cries a haunting backdrop.

Victor motioned to his men. “Take them inside and secure them. I’ll deal with them after I handle the details with my… business partners.”

The three captives were forced into a dimly lit room at the back of the warehouse. Ropes tied them to chairs, their movements restricted but not enough to squash their determination.

“You okay?” Alex whispered to Lourdes and Yara.

Lourdes nodded, though her face was pale. “We have to figure out a way to get out of here.”

Yara sniffled but straightened her shoulders. “We’ll find a way.”

Alex scanned the room, noting the old, rusted tools scattered about and a large window covered in grime. “We just need one chance,” he muttered.

Alex’s friends were closing in on the warehouse.

“Almost there,” Deontay said, glancing at his phone as they approached the warehouse district.

Marisol clutched her chest, her heart pounding. “Are you sure?”

Malachi slowed the car, his eyes scanning the rows of decrepit buildings. “This is the location. They have to be here.”

“We need to be smart,” Donte said. “If Victor’s inside, he’ll have men with him. We can’t just barge in.”

Marisol leaned forward. “Then what do we do? We don’t have time to wait.”

Malachi smirked. “Good thing I brought backup.”

He pulled out his phone and made a quick call. Within minutes, two more cars arrived, each carrying a few of Malachi’s friends—tough, street-smart guys who owed him favors.

“This is Tray, Maine, Jalen, K3, Chance, Kel, Tay, J5, Moni and Yeez. My bros and they’re here to help us. We’re not alone in this,” Malachi said, his tone resolute.

Inside the warehouse Victor returned to the room where the captives were being held. He knelt in front of Lourdes, tilting her chin up with a finger.

“You think your family will come for you?” he sneered.

Lourdes met his gaze, her defiance unwavering. “They’re already on their way. And when they find you, this ends.”

Victor chuckled. “Bold words for someone in your position.”

Before Lourdes could respond, a loud bang echoed from the warehouse entrance. Victor snapped his head toward the noise, barking orders at his men.

“Stay here. Guard them,” he commanded, heading out with two of his guards.

Malachi’s gang stormed the warehouse with calculated precision, splitting into teams to sweep the building. Deontay led the way with his phone, following the tracker’s signal.

“They’re in the back,” he said, pointing down a dark corridor.

Marisol, flanked by Malachi and Donte, followed closely. The air was thick with tension, each step echoing ominously.

Victor appeared at the far end of the corridor, his gun raised. “You don’t know when to quit, do you?”

Marisol stepped forward, her hands trembling but her voice steady. “Let them go, Victor. It’s over.”

Victor laughed, a cold, hollow sound. “You’re in no position to make demands.”

Suddenly, a commotion erupted behind Victor as Malachi’s friends overpowered two of his guards.

In the chaos, Deontay slipped into the room where Lourdes, Yara, and Alex were tied up.

“Hold on,” he whispered, quickly untying them.

“Victor’s still out there,” Alex warned as he stood.

“Not for long,” Deontay replied, leading them toward the exit.

As the others hurried toward the exit of the warehouse, Yara lingered behind, her curiosity piqued by a small office tucked into the corner of the building. Something about it felt important. She slipped inside, her heart pounding in her chest, and quickly scanned the room. A cluttered desk sat in the center, and on it lay a thick folder with her family’s last name scrawled across the front in bold, black ink.

Her breath caught as she grabbed it, flipping it open briefly to glimpse photographs, documents, and what looked like financial records tied to Victor’s operations. She didn’t have time to examine it further—footsteps echoed nearby.

Shoving the folder into her jacket, she darted out of the office and rejoined the others just as they reached the warehouse door. Her mind raced with questions, but she kept silent, clutching the folder like her life depended on it.

Victor realized his captives were escaping and turned his gun toward them.

“Not so fast!” he shouted, aiming for Lourdes.

Before he could fire, Malachi tackled him to the ground, the gun skidding across the floor. The two men grappled, trading blows as the others scrambled to help.

Marisol grabbed the gun, her hands shaking as she pointed it at Victor.

“Stop!” she screamed, her voice filled with rage and fear.

Victor froze, glaring at her with disdain. “You don’t have the guts.”

Lourdes stepped forward, her face bruised but resolute. “She doesn’t have to.”

In that moment, sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder by the second.

“This isn’t over,” Victor growled as Malachi pinned him to the ground.

“It is for you,” Marisol said, her voice steady.

Police officers swarmed the warehouse, arresting Victor and his remaining men. The nightmare wasn’t over, but for the first time, it felt like they were one step closer to freedom.

As they emerged from the warehouse, Lourdes turned to Marisol.

“We’re alive because of you,” she said softly.

Marisol hugged her tightly, tears streaming down her face. “We’re alive because we fought together. And we’ll keep fighting.”

Alex, Yara, Malachi, and the others stood together, their bond stronger than ever.

But deep in their hearts, they knew the fight against Victor’s empire wasn’t truly over. This was just the beginning.

Chapter 17: The Forgotten Sister

Yara waited until the chaos had settled and the group was safely back at Malachi’s house before pulling Lourdes aside. Her hands trembled as she held the folder she’d stolen from the warehouse.

“What is it?” Lourdes asked, her voice low but laced with concern.

Yara took a deep breath and opened the folder, spreading its contents out on the table. “I found this in Victor’s office before we left. Look…”

The sisters leaned over the papers, their eyes scanning photos, handwritten notes, and official-looking documents. A particular section caught Lourdes’s eye: a birth certificate with the name Kaia Solana written neatly across it.

“Kaia?” Lourdes whispered, her brow furrowing. “Who is that?”

Yara hesitated, her voice breaking. “Lourdes… she’s our older sister.”

Lourdes stared at her, the words hitting her like a punch. “No. That can’t be right. I don’t remember her.”

“That’s what scares me,” Yara replied. “Look at this.” She held up a series of medical records detailing what appeared to be psychiatric treatments and memory suppression experiments.

“Victor and his people did something to us. They erased her from our memories.”

Lourdes’s stomach churned as she picked up another page, her hands shaking. It was a photograph of a young girl with dark hair and a bright smile. She looked eerily similar to their mother, Camila, but there was a faint familiarity in her features that made Lourdes’s chest ache.

“This is her…” Lourdes whispered, tears welling in her eyes. “Why would they do this?”

Yara pointed to the last page in the folder. It was a map of their house, with a red circle drawn over the shed in the backyard. Scribbled next to it were the words:

“Kaia Solana – Deceased. Buried beneath the floorboards. Eliminate evidence.”

Lourdes gasped, stumbling backward. “No. No, this can’t be real.”

Yara grabbed her sister’s hands. “I didn’t believe it either, but look at everything in here. It all connects. Victor killed her. They buried her right under our noses. That’s why we can’t remember her—because they didn’t want us to.”

Lourdes shook her head, her mind racing. The memories felt like shadows, just out of reach. She could almost picture a voice, a presence that had once brought her comfort, but it was gone, snatched away by time and manipulation.

“What do we do?” Yara asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lourdes clenched her fists, her jaw tight. “We go back. We find her. If this is true, we’re not letting Victor or anyone else erase her like she never existed.”

Yara nodded, determination shining in her eyes. “She’s our sister. She deserves justice.”

The two sisters sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their discovery settling over them. The forgotten pieces of their family were finally coming into focus, but with every answer came new, harrowing questions.

Whatever lay beneath those floorboards, they would face it together. Kaia’s story wasn’t over—not yet.

Chapter 18: Beneath the Floorboards

The next morning, Lourdes and Yara convinced Alex, Marisol, and Malachi to return to their home. They hadn’t told the others everything in the folder yet, but they couldn’t face what they’d found alone. As the group piled into the car, the weight of their mission hung heavy over them.

“Are you sure about this?” Alex asked, his gaze flicking between Lourdes and Yara.

“We have to be,” Lourdes replied firmly. “If what we found is true, we need to know. Kaia deserves that.”

Yara had been quiet since finding out about Kaia. Her brows furrowed as if she were trying to pull fragments of lost memories from the depths of her mind. She finally broke her silence as they neared the house.

“I don’t understand,” she said, her voice trembling. “Mom had three children.… but there were no pictures or anything. How could I forget my own sister?”

Lourdes placed a comforting hand on her mother’s shoulder. “Victor made sure we all forgot, Yara. But we’re going to find her, and we’re going to make this right.”

The car pulled up to their home. The sight of the dilapidated house sent chills through all of them. Camila and Chaz were sitting on the porch while Chaz’s sons ran around the front yard.

The group made their way to the backyard, their footsteps crunching on the dry grass. The shed loomed ahead, its wooden boards warped and splintered from years of neglect.

“This is it,” Yara said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lourdes opened the door to the shed, all those memories from the first night in the house came back, she remembered seeing the discolored wooden boards on the floor. She remembered when she first discovered her moms journal buried in the ground, the dirt still layed out on the ground. The air inside was stale, and the faint scent of mildew clung to the walls. A sense of foreboding settled over them as they stepped inside.

Alex handed Lourdes the shovel propped against the wall, and she knelt to inspect the wooden floorboards. “Here,” she said, pointing to an area in the corner where the boards looked slightly newer than the rest.

With trembling hands, she began prying up the planks one by one. Each creak and groan of the wood seemed to echo in the small space, heightening the tension.

The others stood back, their breaths held as Lourdes dug into the dirt beneath the floorboards. With each shovelful of earth, the air grew heavier, the truth inching closer.

Then, the shovel hit something solid.

Yara knelt beside her, helping clear the dirt away with her hands. It wasn’t long before they uncovered a fragment of fabric—a tattered piece of what looked like a dress.

“Oh my God,” Yara whispered, tears streaming down her face.

They continued digging, and soon, the outline of a body emerged—a skeleton wrapped in decayed fabric, fragile and heartbreaking in its stillness.

Yara fell to her knees, her sobs breaking through the silence. “Kaia…” she choked out. “That’s my sister right there…”

Lourdes sat back, her hands shaking. She felt like she couldn’t breathe as the reality of what they’d uncovered settled in. “Victor killed her,” she said, her voice raw with anger. “And then he buried her here like she didn’t matter.”

Alex placed a hand on her shoulder. “But she matters now. We know the truth, and we’re going to make sure everyone else does too.”

The group carefully reburied Kaia’s remains for the moment, covering her with a tarp to protect what little was left. They knew the police would need to be called, but there was one more thing they needed to do before that.

Lourdes entered the house where her mom, Camila, was now in the kitchen pouring a cup of warm tea.

“Well, you girls have had an interesting winter break. It doesn’t even feel like Christmas is in two days,” Camila said, trying to lighten the heavy mood.

“Mom, who is Kaia?” Lourdes asked loudly, her voice cutting through the quiet tension.

The question made everyone stop. Camila’s face went pale, and she sank into the nearest chair. Her hands trembled as she tried to form a response. “Kaia…” she whispered, the name rolling off her tongue like a foreign word she hadn’t spoken in years.

Lourdes stepped closer, her frustration boiling over. “Don’t lie to us! We found the folder. We know Kaia was our sister. We know she was murdered and buried under the shed. How could you not tell us?”

Camila’s eyes filled with tears as she buried her face in her hands. “I didn’t forget her,” she sobbed. “I tried to remember, but it was like… like she was ripped from my mind.”

“Ripped how?” Yara demanded, her voice trembling.

Camila wiped her face and looked at her daughters with haunted eyes. “Victor. He did something to all of us. After Kaia disappeared, he made me see this… this man, some doctor who worked for him. They drugged me, hypnotized me. When it was over, I couldn’t even picture her face anymore. It was like I’d never had a third child.”

Lourdes clenched her fists. “And you just let it happen? You didn’t fight back?”

“Don’t you think I tried?” Camila cried. “Victor threatened to kill all of you if I didn’t comply. He said Kaia was a warning. I thought if I kept my head down, if I pretended to forget, I could keep you two safe.”

“But why?” Yara asked. “Why did Victor kill her?”

Marisol swallowed hard and glanced at the folder Yara still held. “Kaia was a warning, when I found out the type of work your dad was doing I threatened to leave him and expose everything and”

“—He killed her,” Lourdes finished for her, her voice cold and detached. “And buried her in our backyard like trash.”

“And then what mom? You pack us up and move us 3 hours away and pretend like nothing happened, then when you finally decide to divorce dad you bring us back to this house…. The house where our older sister was buried. Don’t you think that’s crazy mom?” Lourdes snapped back

Camila nodded, the weight of her guilt crushing her. “I wanted to protect you. I thought if I played along, Victor would leave us alone. But he didn’t. He took Kaia, and he broke me.”

Silence filled the room as everyone absorbed Camila’s words.

“So what do we do now?” Chaz asked hesitantly as he entered the room.

“We get justice,” Lourdes said firmly. “For Kaia, for Chloe, for all of us. Victor’s not going to hurt anyone else.”

Camila shook her head. “You don’t understand. Victor’s power reaches everywhere. He has people—lawyers, cops, politicians. You can’t just take him down without consequences.”

“We don’t care about the consequences,” Yara said, her voice filled with steely resolve. “He took everything from us. He has to pay.”

Marisol stepped forward, placing a hand on Camila’s shoulder. “They’re right, you’ve been living in fear for too long. It’s time to fight back.”

Camila stared at her daughters, their determination shining brighter than her fear. She nodded slowly, her tears drying. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it together.”

Just then, a knock at the door startled everyone. Malachi peeked through the window and turned to the group. “It’s Donte and Deontay,” he said.

Yara quickly hid the folder under the couch as Malachi let them in.

“We heard what happened at the warehouse,” Donte said, his expression serious. “Are you guys okay?”

“No,” Lourdes replied, her voice cold. “But we’re going to be.”

“Good,” Deontay said, his eyes dark with anger. “Because we’re in this with you. Whatever it takes to take Victor down, we’ll do it.”

Lourdes glanced at Yara, then at her mom. “Then we start by digging up the truth. Victor took Kaia from us, but we’re going to make sure the world knows what he did.”

And as the group sat together, formulating a plan, the weight of the past began to lift. For the first time in years, they weren’t running. They were fighting—and they were going to win.

Chapter 19: A Mother’s Sins

Lourdes paced the living room, the tension radiating from her in waves. Yara sat on the edge of the couch, silent but visibly distressed, while Camila stood by the window, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her face was pale, her usual warmth replaced with the weight of old secrets finally coming to light.

“How could you forgive him?” Lourdes demanded, her voice shaking with anger. “How could you forgive Dad after what he did? After he let Kaia die and let Victor destroy our family?”

Camila sighed, her gaze fixed on the floor. “You don’t understand, Lourdes. I did what I thought was best for all of us.”

“No, you didn’t!” Lourdes shot back. “You did what was easiest for you! You moved us away like nothing ever happened and then moved us back into a house full of secrets. You let Victor get away with murdering Kaia, kidnapping Chloe and God knows what else!”

“Lourdes,” Camila said softly, tears forming in her eyes. “It wasn’t like that. I was terrified. I thought if I stayed quiet, if I played along, he wouldn’t hurt us anymore. I was trying to protect you and Yara.”

“Protect us?” Lourdes scoffed, her voice dripping with disbelief. “You call this protection? Chloe is dead because of you. You let Victor control you. You stayed with Dad like he didn’t sell out his own daughter. And now you’re standing here crying like we’re supposed to feel sorry for you?”

Camila flinched at Lourdes’ words, her lips trembling as she struggled to respond. “I never wanted any of this to happen. I thought—”

“You didn’t think!” Lourdes snapped, her frustration boiling over. “You let Victor and Dad destroy our family because you were too scared to stand up to them. And now we’re the ones who have to clean up your mess.

We lost Kaia, we lost Chloe, got her back and lost her again; not to mention me, Yara and Alex were kidnapped and you didn’t save us, Chaz, Alex’s cousin Marisol and his friends did”

Yara stood abruptly, placing a hand on Lourdes’ shoulder. “Lourdes, enough. This isn’t helping.”

“No, Yara. I’m done pretending like this is okay,” Lourdes said, her voice cracking with emotion. She turned back to Camila, her eyes filled with betrayal. “You forgave Dad for what he did to Kaia. You just erased her like she never existed. Seventeen years, Mom. Seventeen years you let him live with us, knowing what he was a part of.”

“I didn’t forget Kaia,” Camila whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Didn’t you?” Lourdes shot back. “Because it sure feels like you did. You didn’t even tell us about her. Yara and I had to find out from a folder we weren’t even supposed to see. If Yara hadn’t found it, would you have ever told us the truth?”

Camila’s silence was answer enough.

“That’s what I thought,” Lourdes said coldly. She grabbed her bag from the floor, slinging it over her shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Yara asked, alarmed.

“To Alex’s,” Lourdes said without looking back. “I can’t stay here.”

“Lourdes, please,” Camila pleaded, stepping forward. “Don’t leave like this. I know I’ve made mistakes, but everything I’ve done was for you and your sister.”

Lourdes turned, her eyes filled with fury. “No, Mom. Everything you’ve done was for you. To save yourself. And Chloe and Kaia paid the price for it.”

“Lourdes, stop,” Yara said, trying to intervene.

“No, Yara,” Lourdes said firmly. “If you want to stay here and forgive her, that’s on you. But I’m done.”

Yara hesitated but finally stepped aside, her face a mix of sadness and frustration. “Just… be careful, okay? And call me if you need anything.”

Lourdes nodded, her jaw tight, and stormed out of the house, letting the door slam behind her.

At Alex’s house, Lourdes felt some of the tension ease as Alex opened the door and pulled her into a hug.

Come in,” he said softly, sensing her distress without needing to ask questions.

Lourdes dropped her bag by the couch and sat down, her hands trembling as the weight of everything finally hit her.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Alex said, sitting next to her. “Just stay as long as you need.”

“Are you sure your mom is okay with this?” Lourdes whispered.

Alex nodded.

Lourdes sat still, her throat tight with emotion. She wanted to scream, to cry, to let it all out, but instead, she leaned against Alex and let the silence wash over her.

For now, she was safe. For now, she could breathe. But she knew she couldn’t avoid her family forever. Sooner or later, she’d have to face them—and the truth—again. But for tonight, she allowed herself to rest.

Chapter 20: The Beginning of the End

The house was eerily quiet without Lourdes. Yara sat at the kitchen table, staring at the now-open folder they had taken from Victor’s office. The pictures of Kaia, the documents, and the gruesome details of her death lay scattered across the surface. Camila sat across from her, her face pale and her eyes swollen from crying.

“You can’t keep pushing us away,” Yara said softly, breaking the silence.

Camila looked up, her gaze heavy with regret. “I know,” she whispered. “I’ve failed you both in ways I can’t even begin to explain. But I never wanted this for any of you. I thought… I thought I could keep you safe.”

“Safe from what?” Yara snapped, her frustration bubbling over. “From the truth? From Victor? From Dad? Look where all of that got us. Chloe is gone, Kaia is gone, and Lourdes couldn’t even stand to be in the same room as you.”

Camila flinched, but Yara pressed on. “You can’t just keep hiding things from us, Mom. We need answers. About Kaia. About Dad. About Victor. Because if you keep this up, Lourdes isn’t going to be the only one who leaves.”

Camila wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. “Kaia…” she began, her voice trembling. “Kaia was everything to your father and me. She was our second born , and she was so smart, so full of life. Everything was perfect, we had Chaz and we had her. I was so happy. As the years went on, I started hearing rumors about what your dad was doing and I didn’t approve— I didn’t okay? I heard a phone call between your dad and Victor and I told him that I didn’t want to be with him and that I would be going to the police with what I know. I assume your dad told Victor and he did what he needed to do to shut me up and it worked. So I packed us up and moved us to Virginia. Your Uncle Julian and aunt Beatriz decided to stay in Trenton. Chloe grew older and found things out on her own, I had nothing to do with that. I told you that she ran away to protect you.

The only reason why I moved us back into this home is because I couldn’t afford anything, divorcing your dad means that we wouldn’t have as much money as we once did. That’s why I asked Chaz to move in and offered to help with the boys. A part of me also wanted to face my truths. I wanted you to find out just not this way, I was planning on telling you and your sister everything.”

Yara’s stomach twisted. “And Dad just… let this happen?”

Camila looked down at her hands, her voice barely audible. “He is scared of Victor.”

Yara’s breath caught in her throat.

“I didn’t know until it was too late,” Camila continued, tears streaming down her face. “Victor sent his men to silence me. They… they made it look like an accident, but I knew the truth. And your father? He didn’t even try to stop them. He said it was better this way, that it was safer for the rest of us. So we moved away and 6 months later I was pregnant with Lourdes”

Yara sat back in her chair, feeling the weight of her mother’s confession settle over her. “So, you just forgave him? You let him stay our lives after that?”

Camila shook her head. “I didn’t forgive him, Yara. I never forgave him. But I was too afraid to leave. I thought if I stayed, I could protect you and Lourdes. I thought I could keep Victor from coming after you.”

“But you didn’t,” Yara said bitterly. “Chloe’s dead, and Lourdes can barely look at you.”

“I know,” Camila said, her voice breaking. “I know I failed. And I don’t expect you or Lourdes to forgive me. But I will do whatever it takes to make this right. I swear to you, Yara, I will take Victor down if it’s the last thing I do.”

Yara stared at her mother for a long moment, trying to decide if she believed her. Finally, she nodded. “Good. Because if you don’t, I will.”

Meanwhile, Lourdes sat on Alex’s couch, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. Alex sat beside her, his presence steady and comforting.

“You’re quiet,” Alex said gently.

Lourdes sighed, resting her chin on her knees. “I don’t even know what to say anymore. My family is a mess. My mom is a mess. And now I find out I had an older sister that I never even heard of. How do I even process that?”

Alex reached out, taking her hand in his. “You don’t have to process it all at once. You’ve been through so much, Lourdes. You don’t have to have all the answers right now.”

Lourdes looked at him, her eyes glistening with tears. “I just feel so angry, Alex. At my mom, at my dad, at Victor… at everyone. They all knew things, and they just kept it from us. And now Chloe is gone, and Kaia is gone, and it’s like… it’s like none of it even mattered to them.”

“It mattered,” Alex said firmly. “It mattered to you, to Yara, to me. And we’re going to make sure it matters to everyone else. Victor doesn’t get to keep doing this. He doesn’t get to win.”

Lourdes nodded, determination hardening her expression. “You’re right. Victor has to pay for what he’s done. And my mom? She doesn’t get to sweep this under the rug anymore. If she thinks she’s going to make it right, she’d better be ready to actually fight.”

Chapter 21: The Turning Point

It had been a week since Lourdes had stormed out of her house, and the pain from her family’s betrayal still lingered. But with Alex by her side, she had found a sense of peace she hadn’t known in a long time. Alex was everything she needed: steady, kind, and fiercely protective of her when everything felt like it was falling apart.

The two of them had spent the past week wrapped up in each other, finding solace in the quiet moments they shared, and even in the chaos that had followed Chloe’s death and Kaia’s revelations. Lourdes had found a semblance of normalcy, even if it was temporary. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than what she’d left behind.

One night, after a long, quiet dinner in Alex’s room, things changed between them. The tension that had built over the past few weeks—unspoken and subtle—finally broke, and they gave in to the desire that had been simmering beneath the surface. Alex kissed her with the same intensity that had marked every other interaction between them, a kiss that spoke of longing and frustration, of release and refuge.

It wasn’t planned, but it felt right in the moment. For the first time in a long time, Lourdes felt something other than anger and sadness. It was complicated, of course—Alex was her safe place, but that didn’t erase the truth of her situation. Still, in the comfort of his embrace, all of the brokenness of her family, of Victor, of her past, faded into the background.

But the next morning, the world shifted again.

Lourdes woke to the sound of the front door slamming and Alex’s mom’s raised voice. She was arguing with someone in the living room, and the tone was unmistakably angry. Lourdes sat up in bed, her heart racing, the warmth of the night before evaporating in an instant.

When Alex’s mom stormed into his room, her face red with fury, Lourdes felt her stomach drop.

“What the hell is going on here, Alex?” she snapped. Her gaze shifted toward Lourdes, and her eyes narrowed with clear disapproval. “I told you, no girls in your room.”

Alex’s mother wasn’t the type to mince words, and Lourdes could tell by the way her posture stiffened that this wasn’t going to end well.

“I… Mom, it’s not what you think,” Alex started, his voice pleading, but his mother wasn’t hearing any of it.

“No. I’m done.” She turned to Lourdes. “You can’t stay here. I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but you need to go.”

Lourdes stood, her pulse racing. “I’m not playing any game. I’m not a kid anymore. I just needed somewhere to stay.”

“I don’t care,” Alex’s mom shot back, her tone hard. “I don’t know what’s going on with your family, but that’s none of my concern. I’ve had enough of this. You’re leaving. Now.”

Alex was frozen, looking between his mom and Lourdes, his face filled with helplessness. Lourdes could see the pain in his eyes as he tried to reason with his mother, but there was nothing he could say to change her mind. Alex’s mom had always been strict, but this felt like something deeper—like a breaking point that neither of them could reverse.

Lourdes gathered her things in silence, the room feeling smaller with every step. As much as she wanted to argue, to demand that she be allowed to stay, she knew it wouldn’t help. Alex’s mom had made up her mind.

“I’ll go,” Lourdes said softly, avoiding Alex’s gaze. “I don’t want to cause problems.”

Alex reached for her hand, but she pulled away before he could touch her. “Don’t,” she whispered. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

She grabbed her bag and left the room without another word. The front door slammed behind her as she stepped outside into the cold, her breath visible in the early morning air.

It wasn’t long before Lourdes found herself standing in front of her own house again. Her heart pounded as she stared at the door. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but the bitterness in her chest was all-consuming.

She had just been rejected by the one place she had thought was a refuge, and now she was forced to return to the place that had rejected her long before. The house felt like a prison now. There was no comfort in these walls anymore, just old memories and unresolved pain.

But she had nowhere else to go.

Lourdes opened the door and stepped inside, her footsteps echoing through the house. She was ready to face whatever came next, even if it meant facing her mother.

Camila was sitting in the living room when Lourdes walked in. Her eyes immediately welled with tears as she saw her daughter standing in the doorway.

“Lourdes,” Camila said, her voice fragile, “I’ve been waiting for you. Please, I need to talk to you.”

Lourdes didn’t respond immediately, but her anger bubbled just below the surface. Camila had begged her for forgiveness, but Lourdes wasn’t sure she could forgive her yet—not for everything that had happened. Not for Chloe, not for Kaia, and certainly not for how her mother had handled things.

“You don’t get to beg for forgiveness after everything,” Lourdes said, her voice cold. “You let him back in our lives, and look at where we are. Look at where we were. You didn’t protect me, Mom. You didn’t protect any of us.”

Camila’s face crumpled, and her hands shook. “I know,” she whispered. “I was wrong. But I didn’t know how else to protect you. I thought if I kept everything quiet, if I kept you and Yara safe from the truth, we could survive. I was trying to fix everything, Lourdes.”

Lourdes closed her eyes, swallowing hard against the lump in her throat. She didn’t know how to feel—could she really find it in her to forgive her mother? Was that even possible after everything that had happened?

“I’m not saying I forgive you,” Lourdes said, her voice breaking. “But I’m not going to keep running away from this. From you. From my family.”

“Lourdes, please…” Camila reached out, but Lourdes stepped back.

“I’m not ready,” Lourdes whispered, then turned and left the room.

She didn’t have all the answers yet. But one thing was certain: she couldn’t keep running from the truth anymore. The past was too broken, and the pain too fresh. But maybe, just maybe, there was a way to heal.

Chapter 22: New Beginnings

Camila stood by the window, her hands trembling as she stared out into the cold morning light. The house was eerily quiet, the kind of quiet that made the air feel thick with tension. Her thoughts were spinning, weighed down by guilt and regret. Lourdes’ words still echoed in her mind—cold, hurtful, yet true. She had failed her children in ways she couldn’t undo, but there was still one thing she could do. One thing that might help them heal.

With shaky hands, she reached for her phone. Her fingers hovered over the screen for a moment, then she dialed the number she’d been avoiding for weeks.

The phone rang, and Camila’s heart pounded. She didn’t know what to expect. But she knew this was the only option left—if she was going to make things right, if her family was going to have a chance at a future, this was the only way.

Finally, a voice answered.

“Camila,” the voice on the other end said, its tone warm but knowing. “I was wondering when you’d call.”

It was Agent Nakita Hiu.

“I’ve thought about it,” Camila whispered, her voice barely audible. “I can’t keep this secret anymore. I need to know what happened to my daughters, to all of us.”

Nakita’s voice softened. “I understand. I’ll help you. But I need you to be sure, Camila. This path won’t be easy.”

Camila closed her eyes, feeling the weight of the decision press down on her chest. But she knew, deep down, that this was the right thing. She had to find the truth. She had to know what happened to Kaia and Chloe, and she had to make things right.

“I’m sure,” she said quietly. “Do what you have to do. Please.”

There was a pause on the other end, followed by a soft exhale. “It’ll take time, but I’ll get you the answers. We’ll get them all.”

Camila hung up, her hands shaking as she set the phone down on the counter. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted, but also like something much larger was about to begin. The truth was coming, and there was no turning back now.

Lourdes sat on her bed, staring at her phone, the events of the past few days replaying in her mind. Everything had changed so quickly. She had expected to return home to an empty house, but instead, there had been her mother—broken, vulnerable, pleading for forgiveness. Lourdes hadn’t known how to respond, but deep down, she knew something was shifting.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard a soft knock at her door. It was Yara.

“Hey, can we talk?” Yara asked, stepping inside without waiting for an answer.

Lourdes didn’t respond at first, still lost in her thoughts. But when Yara sat beside her on the bed, the warmth of her presence pulled her back to reality.

“I know things are rough right now,” Yara said quietly, her eyes filled with understanding. “But I’m here for you, always.”

Lourdes nodded, grateful for her sister’s unwavering support. She had always relied on Yara, but now, more than ever, she needed her.

“I know,” Lourdes whispered. “I don’t even know what to feel anymore.”

Yara smiled softly and reached into her pocket, pulling out a small, delicate bracelet. It was silver, with tiny charms attached to it—an angel, a heart, a star. The bracelet looked simple, but it was beautifully made, with intricate details that spoke of care and thoughtfulness.

“I want you to have this,” Yara said, holding it out. “It’s a reminder. No matter what happens, we have each other. And we’ll get through this, together.”

Lourdes stared at the bracelet, touched by the gesture. A part of her wanted to resist, to push everyone away, but the weight of Yara’s words melted that resistance. Maybe it was time to start rebuilding the pieces of her broken life. Maybe it was time to stop running.

She reached out, taking the bracelet from her sister’s hand. “Thank you, Yara,” Lourdes whispered. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Yara smiled, her eyes shining with the promise of support. “You don’t have to do it alone.”

As Lourdes slid the bracelet onto her wrist, she felt a small sense of peace wash over her. It wasn’t much, but it was something. And for the first time in a long while, that something felt like a step forward.

The days following Christmas break felt like a blur for Lourdes. The weight of everything—Kaia, Chloe, Victor, the truth—hung heavy on her heart. But she knew she couldn’t keep hiding from the world forever. It was time to face it. It was time to face school again, to start rebuilding what had been lost.

The morning of her return to school, Yara stood in the kitchen, helping their mother prepare breakfast. Camila had been quieter than usual, but Lourdes could see the subtle signs of her trying—trying to make things right, trying to move forward. It wasn’t enough to heal the wounds of the past, but it was a start.

As Lourdes walked into the kitchen, Yara looked up from where she was packing their bags. “Ready to face the world again?” she asked, a playful glint in her eyes.

Lourdes offered a small smile. “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

Yara grinned, handing her a stack of books. “Nope. But hey, we’ve got each other. And besides, what’s the worst that could happen? You’ve survived everything else.”

Lourdes couldn’t help but laugh, the weight of the past few weeks lightening, if only for a moment.

“I guess you’re right,” she said. “Let’s go. We’ve got this.”

Together, they stepped out the door and into the unknown. Back to school. Back to a life that was still in the process of being rebuilt. But at least this time, they would face it together.

Chapter 23: A New Path

The air was thick with silence as Lourdes, Yara, and Camila sat together in the living room. The truth had been laid bare before them—Kaia, Chloe, Victor, everything. Lourdes could barely process it all. It felt as though her world had just shifted beneath her feet, but somehow, she was still standing.

The weight of their mother’s confession hung heavy in the air. Lourdes couldn’t help but glance over at her mom, seeing her in a new light. Camila was still their mother, but now she was a woman full of brokenness and regret. Lourdes didn’t know how to feel about her anymore. The part of her that still wanted to trust her wavered, but there was another part of her—an angry, bitter part—that couldn’t help but resent her for keeping the truth from them for so long.

Yara, who had been quiet since the revelation, was the first to break the silence. Her voice trembled, but her words were firm.

“Why didn’t you protect us, Mom? Why didn’t you fight for us?” Her eyes burned with unshed tears, but there was a steeliness to her tone. “Why didn’t you tell us about Kaia?”

Camila took a deep breath, wiping a tear from her cheek before speaking. “I didn’t know how. I thought that if I kept it all to myself, I could somehow keep you safe. I was wrong. I see that now.”

Lourdes stood up, pacing across the room. Her emotions were all over the place. Hurt, anger, confusion, even relief. She had waited so long for the truth to come out, but now that it had, she wasn’t sure what to do with it.

She stopped by the window, staring out at the darkening sky. “How could you let Victor get away with it? How could you just let him destroy us like this?”

Camila’s voice was soft, almost apologetic. “I didn’t let him. I was too afraid to fight back. He had a way of making everything seem like it was for the best, and I… I just believed him. I thought I could keep you safe by staying quiet, but I was wrong.”

Lourdes turned to face her mother, her anger bubbling to the surface. “He killed Kaia, Mom. He killed Chloe. And we’re still stuck in this nightmare.”

“I know,” Camila whispered, her voice breaking. “I failed you. But I’m trying to fix it. I’m trying to make things right.”

Yara crossed her arms, still processing everything. “Trying isn’t enough, Mom. You can’t just apologize and expect us to forget.”

Lourdes felt her heart clench as Yara’s words hit home. She was right. Trying wasn’t enough. It would take more than apologies to fix what had been broken.

“I don’t know what to do,” Camila said softly, her voice full of sorrow. “But I’m not going to stop fighting for you girls. I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right.”

Lourdes could hear the sincerity in her voice, but it wasn’t enough. Not yet. They had been through too much, and the damage was deep. But at the same time, a part of her wanted to believe her mother, wanted to believe that they could start over and heal together.

The doorbell rang, interrupting the tension in the room. Lourdes felt a jolt of unease in her stomach. Who could that be?

She opened the door cautiously and found Alex standing there, looking at her with concern in his eyes.

“Hey, I’ve been trying to call you,” he said, stepping inside when she motioned for him to.

Lourdes took a deep breath, grateful for the distraction. Alex’s presence always had a calming effect on her. She had so many emotions running through her—anger, sadness, fear—but she didn’t know how to sort through them.

“Hey,” she said, her voice softer now, though she could feel the weight of everything she had just learned still pressing down on her.

“Are you okay?” Alex asked, his voice gentle.

Lourdes shrugged, unsure of how to answer. “I don’t know.”

Alex stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her in a comforting embrace. “Whatever’s going on, you don’t have to go through it alone.”

Lourdes clung to him for a moment, grateful for his warmth and support. She wasn’t sure how she was going to process everything, but for the first time in a long time, she felt like she wasn’t completely alone.

After a moment, Alex pulled back, his gaze lingering on her. “Your mom… she told you the truth, didn’t she?”

Lourdes nodded slowly. “Yeah. About Kaia. About everything.”

Alex’s eyes softened with understanding. “That must have been a lot to take in.”

“It’s overwhelming,” Lourdes admitted. “But at least I know now. At least the truth’s out there. I just… I don’t know what to do next.”

Alex took her hand, his grip steady and reassuring. “One step at a time. You don’t have to figure it all out right now.”

Lourdes squeezed his hand, feeling a bit of the weight lift off her shoulders. Maybe things weren’t perfect, and maybe she didn’t have all the answers, but with Alex by her side, she felt like she could keep moving forward.

The following morning, Lourdes woke up to a new day. The sun was shining through the curtains, and the world outside seemed quieter, somehow more peaceful. It didn’t erase everything that had happened, but for the first time in weeks, she felt a glimmer of hope. Things were still uncertain, but maybe—just maybe—they could find a way to heal.

Yara was already downstairs when Lourdes came into the kitchen. She was sitting at the table, her arms crossed, a contemplative look on her face.

Lourdes sat down beside her, reaching out to gently touch her sister’s hand. “I know this is a lot to process,” she said softly. “But I think we can get through it. Together.”

Yara nodded, her eyes a little more distant than usual. “I don’t know if I can forgive her,” she admitted quietly. “But I’ll try.”

Lourdes sighed, resting her head on her sister’s shoulder. “We don’t have to have all the answers. We just have to keep moving forward.”

The phone on the counter buzzed, breaking the moment of quiet. Lourdes glanced at it, her heart skipping a beat when she saw the caller ID.

It was Nakita.

She picked up the phone with trembling hands, not knowing what to expect. This could change everything.

“Nakita?” Lourdes said cautiously.

“Nakita Hiu,” the agent’s voice came through the line, calm but urgent. “We’ve found something. It’s time to end this.”

Lourdes felt a surge of adrenaline flood her veins. “What do you mean?” she asked, her heart racing.

“There’s been a breakthrough,” Nakita said. “It’s time to put an end to Victor’s reign. We’re ready to take action. But we need you and your family to stay safe.”

Lourdes looked at Yara, who was watching her intently. This was it. The moment they had been waiting for.

“Do what you have to do,” Lourdes said, her voice steady. “We’re ready.”

And just like that, Lourdes knew they were no longer victims of their past. They were going to fight. And they were going to win.

Chapter 24: Broken and Bruised

A month had passed since Lourdes had returned home, and while things had seemed to settle into a tentative routine, the underlying tension never truly went away. The house, once filled with chaos and pain, now felt like a hollow shell of its former self. Lourdes tried to focus on her studies, to keep her mind busy and distracted, but it was hard. Every time she looked at her mother, Camila, she saw the weight of the secrets they had just uncovered—secrets that had destroyed their family. The healing process was slow, and Lourdes wasn’t sure she was even ready to forgive her mom. But she was trying. For herself, for her family, for whatever semblance of peace they could grasp.

It was a cold evening when everything came crashing down again. Lourdes was sitting at the kitchen table, absentmindedly scrolling through her phone when she heard the sharp knock on the front door. Her heart skipped a beat. She recognized the sound of boots on the porch—the unmistakable thud of a man with purpose. The door creaked open, and there stood their father, Mordecai.

Lourdes’ blood ran cold.

“Dad,” she said, barely managing to choke out the word. “What are you doing here?”

Camila appeared behind Lourdes, her eyes widening in panic at the sight of him. Marco’s face was twisted in a dark grin, his eyes bloodshot and wild. Lourdes could already feel the tension crackling in the air, thick and suffocating.

“I’m here to make things right,” Marco said, his voice deep and menacing.

Lourdes stepped back instinctively, her body tensing. She had spent so many years resenting him, but she never thought he’d actually show up again, not like this. She had hoped he would stay out of their lives for good.

Camila, too, took a step back, her voice trembling. “Please, Marco, don’t do this. You promised. You’re not welcome here.”

But Marco wasn’t listening. With a cruel sneer, he shoved past Camila, sending her stumbling into the wall. His hand shot out and grabbed her by the arm, yanking her toward him with terrifying force.

“Get off me!” Camila cried out, struggling against his grip.

Lourdes rushed forward, trying to pry her mother from his grasp, but his was stronger. He threw her aside with a brutal shove, sending her crashing to the floor. She let out a cry of pain as she hit the ground, but he didn’t seem to care. His gaze was locked on Camila, his voice low and menacing.

“You’ve made a mess of things, Camila,” he growled. “And now, you’ll pay for it.”

Lourdes’ pulse pounded in her ears. She didn’t know what to do. She had to stop him, but she didn’t have the strength. Her hands were shaking, her mind spinning as she tried to process the scene unfolding before her. Yara’s footsteps echoed in the hallway, and she appeared in the doorway, eyes wide with shock.

“What’s going on?” Yara’s voice cracked, and she froze when she saw their father. Her body tensed, and her fists clenched at her sides.

“Get out of here, Yara,” Lourdes whispered urgently, trying to shield her younger sister from the violence unfolding.

But Yara wasn’t backing down. She stormed forward, her voice filled with defiance. “No! Let go of Mom, Dad!”

Marco’s eyes flicked toward Yara, his expression darkening. He released Camila with a cruel shove, sending her sprawling onto the floor, before turning his full attention to his daughters. “You think you can stop me?” he spat.

In that moment, Lourdes felt a wave of despair wash over her. Their father—this man who had ruined their lives—was back. And there was nothing they could do to stop him.

Yara, not backing down, rushed forward, but Lourdes grabbed her arm just in time.

“Yara, no!” Lourdes hissed. “We need to call the police.”

But it was too late. Marco swung his arm out in a brutal backhand, striking Camila hard across the face. She cried out, collapsing to the floor. Lourdes rushed to her mother’s side, but the damage had been done.

The sound of sirens in the distance made Lourdes’ heart race. She scrambled for her phone, dialing 911 as her mother groaned in pain on the floor. Marco had already stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake.

Lourdes’ hands shook as she spoke with the dispatcher, explaining the situation as best she could. When the police arrived, they found Camila barely conscious, covered in bruises. She was rushed to the ICU in critical condition, her body battered and broken from the attack.

But that wasn’t the only thing that Lourdes had to face that night.

As she sat in the waiting room of the hospital, the weight of everything started to hit her. Her mind drifted back to the night she had been with Alex—the night she’d felt something shift inside her, but had never really processed. Now, with the chaos unfolding around her, Lourdes felt a sharp, sinking sensation in her stomach.

She knew something was wrong. She hadn’t gotten her period in weeks, but with everything that had happened, she hadn’t paid much attention to her body. Now, as she sat in the sterile waiting room, it was impossible to ignore the signs.

She ran her fingers over her stomach, feeling a wave of nausea flood over her. Lourdes stood up quickly, her legs shaky as she rushed to the bathroom. The test was quick, and as she stared down at the results, she felt her world shatter once again.

Pregnant.

She didn’t know how she could have missed it, but the truth was undeniable. A baby. From Alex. The thought of it was overwhelming. Could she handle this? Could she bring a child into a world so full of chaos and pain?

Lourdes stepped out of the bathroom, her mind racing. But the news of her pregnancy wasn’t the only thing weighing heavily on her heart.

When she returned to the hospital waiting area, Yara was gone.

Panic set in.

“Yara?” Lourdes whispered under her breath, calling her sister’s name as she rushed through the corridors. She found her backpack on the floor by the exit, but Yara was nowhere in sight.

Lourdes’ heart thudded in her chest as she dialed her sister’s phone. No answer.

Yara had run away.

In the midst of everything, Yara had reached her breaking point. She couldn’t handle what had happened to their mother, to their family. And now, she was gone.

Lourdes felt a lump form in her throat. She didn’t know what to do. But she knew one thing for sure—she couldn’t lose her sister, too.

Yara, meanwhile, was running through the night, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she fled from the hospital. She had to get away. From their father, from their mother, from everything.

Her feet pounded against the pavement as she ran, not caring where she was going, as long as it was away from that hell.

And then, just when she thought she couldn’t go on any longer, she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Yara?”

She spun around, ready to fight, only to find a class mate by the name of Nelly standing in front of her. “Do you need a ride? C’mon we’ll get you somewhere safe.” Yara’s life had been consumed by the chaos she and her sister were struggling to navigate, leaving little room to notice someone like Nelly—reserved and always lingering on the fringes. But now, standing under the dim glow of the streetlamp, Nelly’s presence felt strangely steady, almost grounding. Yara hesitated for a moment before realizing she had no better option. She knew little about Nelly. Still, Nelly’s voice was calm, her gaze unwavering, and for the first time in weeks, Yara felt a flicker of hope.

Chapter 25: Shadows of Truth

Yara’s heart pounded in her chest as she sat on the edge of the bed Nelly had let her borrow, staring out into the darkened hallway. She had overheard enough in hushed conversations around school to know who Victor was—a name whispered with caution, a figure that commanded both awe and fear. It hadn’t clicked until earlier that day when Nelly casually mentioned her father’s strict rules about guests. The realization sent a chill through Yara’s spine. She couldn’t trust this place, no matter how kind Nelly seemed.

Late that night, with Nelly fast asleep, Yara slipped out of bed and crept downstairs, her bare feet silent against the cold hardwood. Her instincts led her to Victor’s office, a room she had only seen in passing. The door creaked as she pushed it open, revealing shelves lined with thick ledgers and a desk cluttered with papers. She didn’t know exactly what she was looking for, but her gut told her the answers were here. She grabbed a stack of files that looked important, her hands trembling, and bolted back upstairs before Nelly could stir.

By the time she returned home, her chest heaving from running, Lourdes was sitting on the couch with a troubled expression. “Yara, I need to tell you something,” Lourdes began hesitantly. “I’m pregnant. It’s Alex’s.” Yara’s stomach sank. Before she could respond, Lourdes added, “And… Mom’s in the hospital. She’s on life support. They don’t know if she’ll make it.”

The weight of it all hit Yara like a tidal wave, but before she could process any of it, Chaz walked in with his usual pep. “You girls need to focus on school,” he said, completely unaware of the storm brewing in their lives. Yara exchanged a glance with Lourdes, a silent agreement passing between them: they were in this together, no matter how impossible it seemed.

Chapter 26: Burdens Unveiled

The house felt unbearably heavy the next morning, as though the walls themselves were pressing down on Yara. The files she had stolen from Victor’s office were hidden beneath her mattress, their contents still a mystery. She hadn’t dared to look through them yet. Her thoughts swirled with the weight of Lourdes’s revelation and the grim news about their mother. Sitting at the kitchen table with Lourdes, the silence was suffocating.

“When were you going to tell me?” Yara finally asked, breaking the tension.

Lourdes glanced at her nervously, one hand resting protectively on her stomach. “I didn’t know how. Everything is just… falling apart. I didn’t want to make it worse for you.”

Yara stared at her sister, trying to reconcile the strong, defiant Lourdes she had always looked up to with the scared girl in front of her. “And Alex? Does he know?”

Lourdes shook her head. “No. And he can’t. Not yet. He’s got his own problems, and this… this will just make things harder.”

Yara wanted to argue, but the exhaustion in Lourdes’s voice stopped her. She understood the fear of sharing a truth so big it might shatter what little stability remained.

Their conversation was interrupted by Chaz walking in, holding a grocery bag and his usual cheery demeanor. “Good morning, ladies. I brought some food. Figured we could use a proper breakfast for once.”

He started unpacking eggs and bread, completely oblivious to the tension in the room. Yara exchanged a look with Lourdes. Chaz didn’t know about the pregnancy or their mother’s condition, and neither sister had the energy to explain it now.

After breakfast, Yara slipped back into her room and locked the door. She pulled the files out from under her mattress, her hands trembling as she opened the first one. Inside were detailed notes, photographs, and transactions—evidence of Victor’s dealings. Some of it was mundane, but other documents hinted at something much darker: names crossed out, addresses circled, and sums of money exchanged that didn’t add up.

One page in particular made her stomach drop. It was a photograph of her mother, taken months ago, with a note scrawled across the bottom: “Debts unpaid.”

Her hands shook as she stared at the image. Could Victor have been the reason her mother ended up on life support? Was this his way of sending a message?

Yara didn’t know what to do with the information, but one thing was clear: she couldn’t stay silent. Not anymore. She shoved the files back under her mattress and stepped into the hallway, where Lourdes was waiting for her.

“What’s wrong?” Lourdes asked, her face full of concern.

Yara hesitated, unsure if she should tell her sister what she had found. “Nothing,” she said quickly, forcing a smile. “Just thinking.”

But inside, she knew the truth was unraveling, piece by piece, and sooner or later, they would have to face it head-on.

Chapter 28: The Breaking Point

The air in the house was suffocating, filled with a tension that no one dared to name. Yara hadn’t slept much since discovering the files, and Lourdes’s growing unease was palpable. Their mother’s fate hung over them like a storm cloud, and Chaz’s well-meaning optimism only made things worse.

Yara sat on the floor of her room, the stolen files spread out around her. She had combed through every page, trying to make sense of Victor’s web of lies and power. The note about her mother haunted her, and though she wanted to believe it was a coincidence, the evidence suggested otherwise. She couldn’t stop replaying it in her mind: her mother, gasping for air in a sterile hospital bed, tied to machines that barely kept her alive.

Lourdes knocked softly on the door before stepping inside. “Yara,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “We need to talk.”

Yara glanced up, her heart sinking at the sight of her sister’s tear-streaked face. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Mom,” Lourdes said, sitting beside her. “The doctors called. They said… they said we need to make a decision. She’s not getting better, Yara.”

The words hit Yara like a punch to the gut. She stared at her sister, her throat tightening. “What are you saying? That we should… let her go?”

Lourdes nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks. “They said she’s suffering. That it’s time.”

Yara shook her head, her voice rising. “No. We can’t just give up on her. She’s all we have, Lourdes!”

Lourdes grabbed Yara’s hands, holding them tightly. “And what about us? We can’t keep living like this, Yara. Mom wouldn’t want us to. She’d want us to move on, to have a chance at something better.”

Before Yara could respond, there was a knock at the front door. Both sisters froze, exchanging nervous glances. Yara quickly gathered the files, shoving them under her bed.

“I’ll get it,” Lourdes said, wiping her face as she stood.

Yara followed her to the door, her stomach twisting. When Lourdes opened it, Nelly was standing there, her face pale and drawn.

“Yara,” Nelly said, her voice trembling. “We need to talk. Now.”

Lourdes stepped aside, letting Nelly in. Yara’s heart raced as her classmate turned to her, her eyes wide with fear.

“My dad knows,” Nelly whispered. “He knows you took the files.”

Yara’s blood ran cold. “What are you talking about?”

Nelly’s voice was frantic. “He doesn’t know what you took, but he knows something’s missing. He’s furious, Yara. If he finds out it was you…”

Yara’s mind spun as she tried to process Nelly’s words. Victor’s reputation was enough to make anyone afraid, but now she knew firsthand what he was capable of.

“What should I do?” Yara asked, her voice barely audible.

Nelly hesitated, glancing at Lourdes before answering. “You need to leave. Both of you. Victor doesn’t let things go, Yara. He’ll come after you.”

The weight of her words settled heavily in the room. Yara looked at Lourdes, her sister’s hand instinctively resting on her stomach. They didn’t have a plan, barely had any resources, but staying was no longer an option.

Yara squared her shoulders, a newfound determination hardening her features. “Then we’ll leave,” she said firmly. “But not before we make sure Mom is at peace.”

Lourdes nodded silently, her face a mixture of fear and resolve. The sisters knew they were standing on the edge of something they couldn’t fully control. But together, they would face it—no matter the cost.

Chapter 29: The Road Ahead

The sisters sat in the dimly lit hospital room, the steady hum of machines filling the silence. Their mother looked so small, her face pale and sunken, her chest rising and falling with the help of the ventilator. Yara clutched Lourdes’s hand tightly, her fingers trembling. The decision weighed heavily on them both, like a stone they couldn’t shake.

“She wouldn’t want this,” Lourdes said quietly, her voice breaking. “Mom was always so strong, so full of life. This… this isn’t living.”

Yara wiped at the tears streaming down her face, her gaze locked on their mother. “I know,” she whispered. “But how do we say goodbye?”

Neither of them had an answer. When the doctor came in to confirm their decision, Yara thought her heart might shatter. Lourdes nodded, and Yara found herself unable to speak, her throat closing with emotion.

They stayed in the room as the machines were turned off, holding their mother’s hands and whispering words of love and gratitude. It was quiet—peaceful, almost—but the loss felt like a gaping wound. When it was over, the sisters walked out of the hospital in silence, the weight of their grief pressing down on them.

Back at home, the reality of their situation began to sink in. Lourdes was sitting on the couch, cradling her stomach protectively. Yara paced the room, her mind racing.

“Nelly said we have to leave,” Yara finally said, breaking the silence. “Victor won’t stop until he finds me. And if he knows about you…” She glanced at Lourdes, her words trailing off.

Lourdes looked up, her face pale but determined. “Then we leave. We’ll figure it out, Yara. We always do.”

“What about Alex? Have you told him?”

Lourdes shook her head. “He’s not ready for this. And honestly, I don’t know if I want him involved. He’s got his own problems, and I can’t rely on him to fix this.”

Yara sighed, running a hand through her hair. She wanted to argue, but she knew Lourdes was right. Alex had never been dependable, and this wasn’t the time to gamble on him suddenly stepping up.

The door creaked open, and Chaz walked in, carrying a stack of papers. He stopped short when he saw their faces, his cheerful expression fading.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice full of concern.

Yara and Lourdes exchanged a glance. Neither of them had the heart to tell him everything, not yet. “It’s just… been a rough day,” Yara said softly.

Chaz nodded, clearly sensing there was more to the story. “Well, I’ve been looking into some programs for you two. Ways you can finish school and maybe even get scholarships. I think it could really help.”

Yara forced a smile, appreciating his effort but knowing that school was the least of their worries now. “Thanks, Chaz. We’ll think about it.”

As the night wore on, Yara and Lourdes packed what little they could carry. Clothes, a few photos, and the files Yara had stolen from Victor’s office. They didn’t have a plan or a destination, but they knew staying was no longer an option.

Before they left, Yara stood in the doorway of their mother’s room, staring at the empty bed. “We’ll make it, Mom,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I promise.”

With that, the sisters stepped into the night, the road ahead uncertain but one thing clear: they only had each other now, and they would do whatever it took to survive.

Chapter 30: Fractured Bonds

The knock on the door startled both Yara and Lourdes. They had only been in their new, temporary place for a few days, and no one should have known where they were. Yara’s heart sank as she glanced at Lourdes, who sat frozen on the couch.

“Stay here,” Yara whispered, grabbing a broomstick from the corner as she made her way to the door.

When she opened it, her stomach dropped. Marco stood there, his face twisted in anger, his knuckles clenched at his sides.

“Where is she?” Marco demanded, his voice low and threatening.

Yara blocked the doorway, her grip on the broom tightening. “You’re not welcome here, Marco. Leave.”

But Marco shoved past her, storming into the room. His eyes landed on Lourdes, and his face darkened. “You thought you could just disappear? After everything I’ve done for you?”

“Marco, you need to leave,” Lourdes said, her voice trembling as she stood, holding her stomach protectively.

“Leave?” he scoffed, stepping closer. “After you embarrassed me? After you threw everything we had away?”

“We never had anything, Marco!” Lourdes snapped, her voice cracking. “You’re toxic, and I’m done with you!”

The room grew thick with tension as the argument escalated. Marco’s voice rose, his anger boiling over. Yara stepped between them, trying to defuse the situation, but Marco shoved her aside, his focus locked on Lourdes.

“You think you can talk to me like that?” Marco snarled. In one sudden, violent motion, he grabbed Lourdes’s arm and pushed her backward. She stumbled, falling hard against the edge of the couch. A sharp cry escaped her lips, and she doubled over, clutching her stomach.

“Lourdes!” Yara screamed, rushing to her sister’s side. Marco froze, his face pale as the gravity of what he had done began to sink in.

“I—I didn’t mean to—” Marco stammered, but Yara glared at him with a fury that could have burned him alive.

“Get out!” she yelled. “Get out now before I call the cops!”

Marco hesitated for a moment before retreating, slamming the door behind him.

Yara turned her attention back to Lourdes, who was curled up on the floor, tears streaming down her face. “Lourdes, are you okay? Talk to me!”

Lourdes shook her head, her sobs choking her words. “It hurts… something’s wrong.”

Yara’s heart sank as she helped her sister up and rushed her to the nearest hospital. Hours later, a doctor confirmed their worst fear: Lourdes had miscarried.

Back at the apartment, Lourdes sat in silence, her face a mask of grief and fear. “I can’t tell Alex,” she whispered finally, her voice hollow. “He’ll blame me, or worse, he’ll go after Marco and get himself killed.”

Yara couldn’t let it slide. Marco had taken something precious from their family, and she wasn’t going to let him get away with it. The next morning, she went to Malachi, the only person she trusted enough to confide in.

“He hurt Lourdes,” Yara said, her voice shaking with anger. “And she lost the baby because of him.”

Malachi’s face darkened, his jaw tightening. “Does Alex know?”

“No. She doesn’t want him to. But someone has to do something.”

Malachi nodded grimly. “Leave it to me.”

By that evening, Alex was at their door, his face flushed with fury. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded, looking straight at Lourdes.

“Alex, I—” Lourdes started, but Alex shook his head, cutting her off.

“I know everything. Malachi told me. And now, I’m going to handle it.”

Lourdes’s eyes widened in panic. “Alex, no! Please don’t do this. I don’t want anyone else hurt because of me.”

But Alex was already turning to leave, his expression cold and determined. “This isn’t just about you, Lourdes. It’s about what he did. He has to pay.”

Yara stood in the doorway as Alex stormed out, a sick feeling settling in her stomach. She had wanted justice, but now she feared what Alex might do—and what it might cost them all.

Chapter 31: Shattered Roads

Chaz had insisted that moving back to Virginia was the best option for the girls—away from the chaos, away from the pain. He promised a fresh start, but for Lourdes and Yara, it felt like a cage. The days blended together, the grief of losing their mother still raw, the emptiness from the miscarriage only growing. They tried to pretend things were okay, but the walls of their new home felt suffocating.

Lourdes had barely spoken in the past few weeks. She spent most of her days staring out the window, her mind lost in places she couldn’t reach. Yara had tried to be there for her, but it was clear that Lourdes was slipping further away, the weight of everything pressing down on her.

Then came the day when Alex tracked down Marco. The argument was inevitable.

Alex found Marco at a dive bar, sitting alone with a drink in hand. The air between them was thick with hostility.

“Where is she?” Alex demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

Marco looked up, his expression unbothered. “Who?”

“Lourdes,” Alex growled, his fists clenched. “What did you do to her? To the baby?”

Marco’s smirk faltered for a split second. “What are you talking about?”

“The miscarriage, Marco. I know what happened. You pushed her too far.”

Marco’s gaze flickered with something dark, something almost pleased. “So, you finally figured it out. She was carrying my kid, huh? Funny how things turn out, isn’t it?”

Alex’s face turned pale with fury. “You’re sick. You killed her baby.”

The words were like a slap, and Marco didn’t flinch. Instead, he leaned forward, his voice cold and mocking. “She was never gonna keep it she sure as hell wasn’t ready to be a mother. The kid was just a mistake, Alex. A mistake that I made sure didn’t happen.”

Alex lunged forward, grabbing Marco by the collar. But Marco shoved him back, standing up with a chuckle.

“ She didn’t want the kid, man. But it’s funny how you’re blaming me now. Where were you when she needed you?”

The words hit Alex like a punch, and in his rage, he swung at Marco. The fight that followed was chaotic and violent, but it ended with Marco walking away, leaving Alex standing in the dirt, breathing heavily, seething with rage. He had never wanted this, but now the anger was too much to contain.

Back in Virginia, Lourdes barely spoke to anyone. The weight of the miscarriage hung over her like a dark cloud, and with each passing day, she felt more and more distant from the world. She had lost so much: her mother, her baby, and now, the boy she had once loved. Alex had been the one bright spot in her life, but now she had nothing left to give him.

The depression crept in slowly at first, but it soon consumed her. Yara tried to talk to her, but Lourdes shut her out, retreating into her own sadness.

Then, one evening, Yara came to Lourdes with a wild idea. They needed to get away—just for a little while. A weekend trip back to New Jersey, a place that still held memories of their past life. Lourdes hesitated, unsure, but eventually, she agreed. They would leave without telling Chaz, just for a few days to breathe.

The night they left, the feeling of freedom was almost intoxicating. But neither of them knew how much worse things would get before they returned.

They never made it back.

On their second night in New Jersey, Nelly found them. She had been watching them from the shadows, her eyes filled with a twisted kind of rage. The girls had no idea who was following them, and by the time they realized, it was too late.

Nelly confronted them outside the small hotel where they had stayed, her face twisted in fury. “You thought you could just run away?” she spat, her voice filled with venom.

Yara took a step back, her heart racing. “Nelly, what are you doing here?”

Nelly smiled, but it wasn’t a smile of recognition—it was something darker. “You shouldn’t have come back. This was never meant to happen.”

Before either of them could react, Nelly pulled a gun from her jacket, her hands shaking with the weight of what she was about to do. Lourdes, horrified, took a step back, but it was too late.

The shot rang out, echoing in the night air.

Yara’s scream was drowned out by the deafening silence that followed.

Lourdes collapsed to the ground, blood staining her clothes. Yara knelt beside her, frantic, trying to stop the bleeding. “Lourdes! No! Please, stay with me!”

But there was nothing left to do.

Nelly turned and walked away, leaving the sisters in the cold, empty night.

When the authorities arrived, it was too late. Lourdes was gone. Yara, broken and trembling, was left to face the unbearable truth: her sister was now lost forever.

The world would never be the same again.

Chapter 32: Ashes and Echoes

The funeral was quiet. The kind of quiet that suffocates, where words feel heavy and useless. Chaz stood at the front, his shoulders hunched under the weight of losing both Yara and Lourdes. Two caskets, side by side, painted a picture of heartbreak too vast to put into words.

Malachi sat in the back, his jaw tight, his fists clenched. He hadn’t spoken since he heard the news. Alex wasn’t there—he hadn’t been seen in days. The grief, the anger, the guilt—it was eating everyone alive, piece by piece.

Chaz had tried to make sense of it all. Why had they left without telling him? Why had they gone back to the place they were supposed to be escaping? He couldn’t stop blaming himself. He’d thought moving them to Virginia would save them. Instead, it had isolated them, left them vulnerable.

After the service, Malachi finally broke his silence. He found Chaz standing by the graves, staring down at the fresh dirt.

“Who did it?” Malachi asked, his voice sharp, cutting through the stillness.

Chaz didn’t answer at first. Then, finally, he said, “Nelly.”

The name landed like a bomb. Malachi had suspected, but hearing it confirmed lit a fire inside him. “Victor’s daughter?”

Chaz nodded, his expression dark. “She snapped. Blamed Yara for everything that happened to her family.”

Malachi’s fists tightened. “And what’s being done about it?”

“The police are handling it,” Chaz said, his tone flat, as if even he didn’t believe his own words.

“That’s not good enough,” Malachi spat. “She doesn’t get to walk away from this.”

Chaz turned to him, his face filled with exhaustion. “What would you have me do, Malachi? Start a war? They’re gone. Nothing we do will bring them back.”

“That doesn’t mean she gets to live like it never happened,” Malachi said, his voice low and dangerous.

Chaz didn’t argue. He simply turned back to the graves, his silence speaking volumes.

Meanwhile, Alex was on his own path. When he heard about Lourdes’s death, something inside him snapped. He couldn’t cry, couldn’t grieve—there was only rage. Marco had been the first to tear his life apart, but Nelly had finished the job.

Alex found Marco first.

It wasn’t hard. Marco hadn’t gone far, thinking his usual haunts were safe. But when Alex showed up, it was clear his days of hiding were over.

The confrontation was brutal. Marco laughed at first, mocking Alex’s anger, but his smirk faded when Alex pulled out a knife.

“You ruined her life,” Alex said, his voice shaking with fury.

“And she ruined mine,” Marco sneered. “Fair trade.”

Alex didn’t hesitate. The fight was quick and violent, and when it was over, Marco lay on the ground, blood pooling beneath him. Alex walked away without looking back, his mind already on Nelly.

Back in Virginia, Chaz sat alone in the house. It was too quiet now. The girls’ absence was unbearable, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had failed them. He picked up a picture of the three of them—Yara, Lourdes, and himself, smiling in better times.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I should have done more.”

A knock at the door broke his thoughts. He opened it to find Malachi standing there, his face grim.

“We’re not done,” Malachi said.

Chaz sighed. “Malachi, let it go.”

But Malachi shook his head. “You can’t. Not this time.”

Chaz knew there was no stopping him. Malachi was determined to make sure Nelly paid for what she had done. And deep down, Chaz couldn’t blame him.

The storm brewing among them all wasn’t over. Yara and Lourdes were gone, but the echoes of their lives reverberated, leaving those they loved caught in the crossfire. Justice, revenge, and heartbreak were all that remained. And as the dust settled, one thing was clear: no one would escape unscathed.

Chapter 33: Ties of Vengeance

The tension in the room was palpable. Malachi leaned against the wall of the dimly lit diner, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. Across from him sat Alex, blood still staining his shirt from his encounter with Marco. Neither of them spoke at first, their shared silence heavy with grief and anger.

“You look like hell,” Malachi said finally, breaking the silence.

Alex shrugged, his gaze fixed on the table. “Doesn’t matter. He’s gone.”

Malachi raised an eyebrow. “Marco?”

“Yeah. He’s out of the picture,” Alex said flatly. His tone held no satisfaction, only emptiness. “But it doesn’t change anything. Lourdes is still gone.”

Malachi’s jaw tightened. “And Nelly’s still walking free.”

Alex looked up then, his eyes cold. “Not for long.”

The two men locked eyes, a silent agreement passing between them. They couldn’t bring Yara and Lourdes back, but they could make sure Nelly faced the consequences of her actions.

Nelly had gone into hiding. After the murders, she disappeared, leaving no trail for the authorities—or anyone else—to follow. But Malachi wasn’t about to let her slip away. He had connections, people who owed him favors, and he used every resource at his disposal to track her down.

Days turned into weeks, but eventually, he got a lead: a safe house on the outskirts of Newark. It was secluded, the kind of place someone would go when they wanted to disappear.

Malachi didn’t hesitate. He called Alex, who was ready in an instant. Together, they set out, their shared purpose the only thing driving them forward.

The safe house was quiet when they arrived, the surrounding woods thick and silent. Alex and Malachi moved carefully, their breaths visible in the cold night air.

“She’s here,” Malachi said, his voice low.

Alex nodded, gripping the handle of the knife he carried. His heart pounded in his chest, a mix of adrenaline and fury.

They approached the house, the wooden steps creaking beneath their weight. Malachi motioned for Alex to stay back as he peered through the window. Inside, Nelly was sitting at a small table, her face pale and drawn. She looked nothing like the girl they remembered—she looked haunted, broken.

“Stay here,” Malachi whispered, but Alex shook his head.

“No. This is my fight too.”

Before Malachi could argue, Alex pushed the door open. The creak echoed through the small house, and Nelly’s head snapped up, her eyes widening in fear when she saw them.

“You…” she whispered, her voice trembling. She stood quickly, backing away toward the far wall. “What are you doing here?”

Alex stepped forward, his grip tightening on the knife. “You killed them. Yara. Lourdes. And you think you can just hide?”

Nelly shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like that. I—I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t you dare,” Malachi cut in, his voice icy. “Don’t you dare try to play the victim. You pulled the trigger. You made the choice.”

“I didn’t have a choice!” Nelly cried. “Victor—he pushed me too far. I was angry. I was scared. I didn’t mean to—”

“Shut up!” Alex roared, his

Chapter 34: Betrayal in Blood

Alex sat alone in his room, the aftermath of their confrontation with Nelly still fresh in his mind. She hadn’t put up much of a fight when the police arrived, and though she’d been arrested, it didn’t feel like justice. Nothing would bring Lourdes or Yara back. He could still hear their voices, their laughter, feel the weight of their absence.

The knock on his door startled him. He turned to see Malachi stepping in, his face dark with the kind of expression Alex had come to recognize: bad news.

“We need to talk,” Malachi said, shutting the door behind him.

Alex leaned back in his chair, his voice sharp. “What now? Nelly’s in jail. What else is there?”

Malachi didn’t sit. He paced the room, his hands on his hips, his jaw tight. Finally, he stopped and faced Alex. “It’s not just Nelly. There’s more to this.”

Alex frowned, sitting up straighter. “What are you talking about?”

Malachi hesitated, then said, “Marisol.”

Alex blinked, the name hitting him like a cold slap. “My cousin? What about her?”

“She’s not who you think she is,” Malachi said, his voice low.

Alex’s eyes narrowed, confusion and anger bubbling to the surface. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying she’s been working with Victor this whole time,” Malachi said, his words heavy. “She’s been spying on you, on all of us. Keeping tabs. She’s the one who told Nelly that Lourdes and Yara came back to Jersey. She helped plan their murders.”

The words hung in the air like a bomb waiting to explode.

Alex shot to his feet, his hands clenched into fists. “That’s a lie. Marisol would never—”

“She did,” Malachi interrupted, his tone firm. “I’ve got proof.”

Malachi reached into his pocket and pulled out a small envelope. He handed it to Alex, who snatched it and ripped it open. Inside were photographs—grainy but clear enough. They showed Marisol meeting with Victor outside a warehouse, laughing, shaking hands. Another photo showed her with Nelly, handing her what looked like a map.

Alex stared at the images, his mind reeling. “This can’t be real.”

“It’s real,” Malachi said grimly. “She sold you out, Alex. Everything Victor knew about us, about Lourdes—it all came from her.”

Alex felt like the ground was crumbling beneath him. Marisol wasn’t just his cousin—she was family. They’d grown up together, spent holidays together. She’d been there for him after his parents died. And now… this?

“Where is she?” Alex demanded, his voice cold and deadly.

Malachi hesitated. “Alex—”

“Where is she?” Alex snapped, his eyes blazing.

Malachi sighed. “She’s still in Jersey. I got an address.”

Without another word, Alex grabbed his jacket and stormed out of the room.

The drive to Jersey was a blur. Alex’s thoughts raced as he replayed every memory he had of Marisol, every conversation, every moment where she might have been lying to him. The betrayal cut deeper than anything he’d ever felt.

When he reached the address Malachi had given him, he found himself outside a small, run-down apartment building. He climbed the stairs two at a time, his heart pounding with rage.

He banged on the door of Apartment 3B, his fists shaking with the force.

The door opened, and there she was—Marisol, looking surprised but not alarmed.

“Alex?” she said, her voice warm, her face lighting up in a smile. “What are you doing here?”

Alex didn’t smile back. He stepped inside, his eyes cold as he slammed the door behind him.

“Cut the act,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

Marisol’s smile faltered. “What are you talking about?”

“You’ve been working with Victor,” Alex said, his words like venom. “Don’t lie to me, Marisol. I know everything.”

Marisol froze, her face going pale. For a moment, she didn’t speak. Then, slowly, she sighed and closed the space between them.

“Alex, I can explain—”

“Explain?” he snarled, stepping back. “You sold us out. You told Nelly where they were. You planned their murder!”

“It wasn’t like that!” Marisol said, her voice rising. “I didn’t have a choice! Victor—he would’ve killed me.