Chapter 45 Lucid dreams
Chapter 45 Lucid dreams
I opened my eyes to the soft hum of the city outside. The morning light hadn’t fully broken through, but I was already awake, my mind running through every detail I had learned over the past days. Today wasn’t just observation. Today I would step closer to Matteo’s network, closer to the people who held my parents. I wasn’t going to waste another second.
The mansion was quiet. Charles had gone out earlier, leaving the guards behind. Their movements were predictable. I had watched them enough to know exactly when and where they would be. I slipped out of my room without making a sound and moved toward the garage. The car keys were where they always were. I grabbed them and slipped my jacket on, careful not to make a noise. My phone rested in my pocket, a silent link to the outside, a tool I could use if needed.
Max was already waiting outside. He didn’t speak at first. Just nodded, his eyes sharp and alert. “Are you ready?” he finally asked.
I nodded. “Yes. I’ve memorized everything. Tonight, we act.”
The streets were empty, the early hour giving me the advantage. I kept my speed slow, watching every corner, every shadow. Each turn was precise, every street a route I had rehearsed countless times in my mind. My heart beat fast, not with fear, but with anticipation. Each block brought me closer, every moment more intense than the last.
When we arrived near the warehouse, I parked a block away. The fog hung low, giving me cover as we moved through the shadows. Crates and broken structures lined the alley. I crouched behind a stack of crates, listening. Voices echoed from inside, muffled but distinct enough to recognize patterns. Two men moved near the back, carrying boxes and checking codes. I memorized every detail—their jackets, height, mannerisms. Everything mattered.
Max whispered, “You sure about this?”
I didn’t look at him. “I have to see. I have to know. I have to act.”
We edged closer, slipping inside a side entrance. The interior was dark, only a few lights casting long shadows across stacked crates and metal containers. I moved carefully, my eyes scanning every surface, every corner. Shipment labels, codes, delivery notes—I memorized them all. Each piece could help me later, could guide me to my parents.
We paused near the office at the center of the warehouse. I crouched low, pressing myself against the wall. Two men were inside, reviewing schedules and crates. I strained to hear, picking up names, numbers, dates. Everything would be useful.
Suddenly, a shadow moved behind us. I froze. Max’s hand brushed my shoulder, steadying me. A tall man stepped out from the shadows.
“Elena,” he said calmly.
Charles.
I didn’t flinch. I met his gaze, steady. “I have to do this,” I whispered.
He studied me silently, expression unreadable. “Bold,” he said finally. “Dangerous. But you’ve grown. Observing alone… risky.”
“I don’t have a choice,” I said. “I need to see. I need to know where they are. I need to save them.”
He tilted his head slightly, eyes sharp. “And you think you can handle it without making mistakes?”
“I will handle it,” I said firmly. “I will not fail.”
He nodded once and stepped aside. “Then move,” he said. “But remember, danger doesn’t forgive carelessness.”
Inside the office, I moved quickly but carefully. I took photos of shipment notes, recorded addresses, memorized the positions of crates and doors. Every sound, every movement mattered. I noted who entered, who left, and the timing of each step. I replayed everything in my mind, storing every detail I could use later.
Time passed slowly. Max watched the exits and corners silently, letting me take the lead. I traced the paths the men took, memorized the order of deliveries, and counted the crates. Every piece mattered. Every observation was a step closer to my parents.
I noticed a man near the storage area, checking boxes. His movements were precise, practiced. I memorized his route, his speed, the pauses he took. This would all help me later.
Then, my phone buzzed in my pocket. Charles. I kept my movements calm, but I pressed the button to answer.
“I see you’re taking initiative,” he said quietly. “Good. But you’re learning that observation alone isn’t enough. One wrong step, and everything changes. Matteo is unpredictable. He won’t forgive mistakes.”
“I understand,” I said. My voice was steady. “I won’t make mistakes.”
“Good,” he said. “Finish what you need, but do it carefully. Your actions have consequences.”
I ended the call and refocused. Max gave me a small nod, and together we moved toward the exit, retracing our steps silently. Every path, every shadow, every step had been memorized. The warehouse had yielded its secrets. I now had enough information to plan the next phase.
The streets outside were still quiet, fog drifting across the asphalt. I clutched my notebook and phone, reviewing details in my mind. Patterns, names, addresses, shipment times—all of it would guide the next move. I could almost feel my plan forming, precise and actionable.
Back at the mansion, I laid out the notebook on the desk. Every note, every code, every path was recorded in my mind and on paper. I traced routes, delivery schedules, weak points. Matteo’s network was vast, but it was no longer invisible. I could see it clearly. I could understand it. I could act against it.
I looked out the window at the streets below. The city seemed quiet, unaware of what I had done, but I knew better. Every step I had taken tonight had brought me closer to my goal. My parents were out there, and soon I would reach them.
I whispered to myself, quietly, “This is only the beginning. Tonight, I see. Tomorrow, I act. I will save them.”
For the first time in a long while, I felt control returning. The fear was still there, but it was mixed with focus, planning, and determination. I wasn’t just surviving anymore. I was preparing to fight. And nothing, no one, would stop me.