Chapter 95

Chapter 95
Morning crept in like it was afraid to wake anyone, just a thin gray light slipping through the cracks in the shed walls. Lila hadn’t slept, not really. Her eyes had closed a few times, sure, but her mind had stayed wired, replaying every sound outside as if danger had already found them.

Nate finally exhaled and stretched his shoulders, the first sign his body was giving up on the all-night vigil. “We move now,” he said quietly. “Before the town wakes.”

Mia rubbed her face, groggy and irritable. Ethan looked like he’d aged ten years overnight. Lila pushed herself upright, legs stiff, mind sharper than she expected. Fear had a way of doing that, keeping everything awake that shouldn’t be.

They slipped out of the shed through the same narrow path, the yard still wet from midnight dew. Mia checked the back door of her house. Locked. Good sign.

The four walked briskly, sticking to side roads and alleys. Early morning routines were just beginning, sprinklers whirring, a dog barking in the distance, a few delivery trucks grumbling by. Nothing suspicious. Which, frankly, made it more suspicious.

Lila nudged Nate’s arm. “You’re scanning every shadow. Something feels off?”

He gave her a look that wasn’t dramatic, just honest. “Daniel’s been ahead of us too many times. Patterns don’t break without reason.”

Ethan snorted under his breath. “Great. Love that energy.”

They reached the edge of the industrial district, a stretch of concrete buildings, dumpsters, and old warehouses that smelled like rust and wet cardboard. The storage units sat at the far end, a row of metal doors in chipped paint. Carla’s old domain.

Unit 47.

The number alone made Lila’s stomach twist.

Mia pulled a key from her pocket. “Found this in Carla’s box of junk after she disappeared. Figured it was for a locker. Didn’t realize it was this locker.”

Nate took the key, nodded once, and motioned for everyone to spread out. They checked the road, the fences, the lot. Still no movement. Too quiet.

He slid the key into the lock and turned. The latch popped open with a tired clunk.

The door rolled up.

Cold air. Dust. Old boxes stacked high. A smell like paper and forgotten secrets.

Mia’s voice cracked a little. “This is it.”

Lila stepped forward carefully, eyeing everything. The first box she opened was filled with receipts and old mail. Useless. Ethan rummaged through a stack of ledgers, flipping pages like he expected money to spill out.

“This woman hoarded paper like she was allergic to the cloud,” he muttered.

But Lila paused.

There, against the far wall, sat a small wooden crate with scorch marks along one side, as if someone had tried to burn it and then changed their mind.

She crouched and brushed her fingers over the lid. “Nate.”

He came over immediately. “You think this is it?”

“Feels like it,” she said.

He opened the crate. Inside were envelopes, dozens of them, organized with rubber bands. Some stamped, some not. Some are already torn open. Each one had scribbled notes on the outside: names, numbers, dates.

Mia whispered, “Looks like… blackmail logs.”

Ethan leaned in. “Wait, are those… addresses? That’s my street.”

Lila picked up a smaller stack at the bottom. These weren’t old. They were clean, newer paper, newer ink, newer handwriting.

Three names sat on top.

One was hers. The other one was Ethan’s.

And the third…

Nate froze.

“Who the hell is Carla writing to?” he murmured.

Lila opened the envelope with her name. Inside wasn’t a letter. It was a printed photo. A picture of her walking alone through town two weeks ago, taken from across the street.

She swallowed hard. “She was tracking me before Daniel even showed up in my life.”

Mia grabbed another envelope. “This one’s addressed to, oh god.”

Ethan stepped closer. “Who?”

Mia’s voice barely came out. “Chief Renford.”

Lila felt the world tilt. The police chief. The man who claimed Carla “ran away.”

Nate exhaled once, sharp and bitter. “So that’s how Daniel stayed ahead. He had someone feeding him information from inside law enforcement.”

Lila’s throat tightened. “And someone who knew where I was, every time.”

Mia shook her head, pale. “This is… this is insane. Renford’s been the one telling everyone he’s ‘handling’ the case.”

Ethan kicked a nearby box so hard it rattled. “He was never trying to help us.”

Lila clutched the photo again, anger rising through her fear. “We need to expose him. Now.”

But Nate didn’t move. Didn’t speak. His jaw was tight, eyes focused on a spot behind her.

“Lila,” he said calmly, “don’t turn around fast. Just listen.”

Her heart stopped.

His voice had that tone, the one he used only when danger was already in the room.

“There’s someone standing at the entrance of the storage unit,” he murmured. “And they’ve been listening for at least thirty seconds.”

Ethan stiffened.

Mia covered her mouth.

Lila felt her pulse pound in her ears.

She turned, slowly, like Nate told her. And there, silhouetted by the morning light, was Chief Renford himself.

His hand rested casually on his holster. And his expression calm like this was just another Tuesday.

He smiled at her with cold familiarity. “Well,” he said, “looks like you kids found something you shouldn’t have.”

Lila didn’t breathe.

Daniel wasn’t the only hunter in town. And now the one wearing a badge was blocking the only exit.