Chapter 35 Time’s up
Rafael
Isabella pulled out the journal and USB drive with shaking hands.
"This is it," she whispered. "This is what he wanted us to find."
She opened the journal carefully. Pages and pages of Father Matthews's neat handwriting
"Look at this," Isabella pointed to an entry dated three months before Eva's death. "Someone came to confession. Told Father Matthews about a plan to kill Eva and activate her replacement."
My stomach dropped. "Who? Who confessed?"
Isabella flipped through more pages, her finger tracing the lines. "He didn't write the name. Just initials." She looked up at me. "A.M."
"A.M.?" I frowned, my mind racing through everyone I knew. "I don't know anyone with those initials."
"Wait, there's more." Isabella kept reading, her voice tight. "Father Matthews noted that the person was deeply conflicted. Said they'd been coerced into the plan. That they were trying to protect someone they loved."
"So they're not the Architect," Flora said from behind me. "They're another victim."
"Or another pawn," I added darkly. My hands clenched into fists.
"The USB drive," Isabella said, already moving. "Maybe there's more on here."
We needed a computer. I pulled out my phone. "I can pull up…"
The church doors slammed open.
Heavy footsteps echoed off the walls.
"They found us," Flora whispered, her face going pale.
"Move!" I grabbed her hand. "Back to the office. Now!"
We ran back through the door, but the small room was a dead end. No windows. No other exits. Just four walls closing in on us.
The footsteps were getting closer.
I pulled out my gun, positioning myself between Flora and the door.
"Stay behind me."
"Wait," Isabella said. She was running her hands along the wood paneling, pressing different sections. "There's another passage. Father Matthews showed it to me once. For emergencies. It has to be here somewhere..."
"Isabella, hurry," I said. The footsteps were right outside now.
"I'm trying! It's been years. I don't remember exactly…" She pressed another panel and suddenly it swung inward with a soft click. "Here! I found it!"
A narrow staircase descended into darkness. Stone steps worn smooth by centuries of feet.
"Go!" I shoved Flora towards the opening. "Both of you, now!"
Flora scrambled through. Isabella followed, clutching the journal and USB drive to her chest.
I went last, pulling the panel closed just as the office door burst open.
Through a crack in the paneling, I could see them. Four men in tactical gear. Masks covering their faces.
"They were just here," one said. "The safe is open."
"Search everything. They can't have gone far."
I held my breath, not moving. Not making a sound.
Then Flora's hand found mine in the darkness. She squeezed once. I squeezed back.
We waited. Listening to them tear the room apart above us. Listening to them curse and argue about where we could have gone.
Finally, after what felt like hours but was probably only minutes, their footsteps retreated.
"Keep moving," Isabella whispered from below. "Down the stairs. There's a tunnel."
We descended in complete darkness.
I kept one hand on the cold stone wall, the other holding Flora's hand.
The air grew colder with each step. It smelled of earth.
"How far does this go?" Flora asked softly.
"All the way to the old catacombs," Isabella answered. "The church is built over them. They date back hundreds of years."
The stairs finally ended. A single bulb flickered overhead, casting weak yellow light on a narrow tunnel stretching ahead.
The walls were lined with alcoves. Some held ancient bones, carefully arranged. Others were empty.
"This is creepy as hell," I muttered.
"Welcome to the underbelly of San Marco," Isabella said. "Come on. The exit is this way."
We hurried through the tunnel. Our footsteps echoed strangely. Behind us, I thought I heard something. A distant sound. But when I stopped to listen, there was nothing.
Halfway through, my phone buzzed. I checked it and felt my blood turn to ice.
A message from Marco: "Boss, estate is surrounded. They're looking for you. They know you're at the church."
"Shit," I breathed.
"What?" Flora asked.
"They know we're here. The estate is surrounded. Marco says they're looking for us."
"How?" Isabella demanded. "How do they always know where we are?"
"I don't know." But a terrible suspicion was forming in my mind. "Unless someone's tracking us. Or..." I looked at my phone. "Or they're monitoring our communications."
"Your phone," Flora said. "They could be tracking your phone."
She was right. I turned it off immediately. "We need to move faster."
We broke into a run. The tunnel seemed endless, stretching on and on into darkness.
Then I heard footsteps again. In the tunnel.
They'd found the passage.
"Run!" I shouted.
We sprinted. My lungs burned.
Flora's hand was tight in mine, her breathing ragged.
The end of the tunnel came into view. An old iron gate, rusted but still standing.
Isabella hit it first. She pulled hard. "It's locked!"
"Move!" I aimed my gun and fired twice. The lock shattered.
The gate swung open and we burst through into the cemetery.
"The car," I gasped. "We need to get to…"
Gunfire erupted.
Bullets pinged off tombstones, chipping stone and sending up small clouds of dust.
We dove for cover behind a large monument of an angel with broken wings.
"How many?" Isabella shouted over the gunfire.
I risked a glance. "Too many! At least six, maybe more!"
I returned fire, aiming at muzzle flashes in the darkness. One of them went down.
But more were coming. From all sides. We were surrounded.
"This is it," Flora whispered beside me. "This is how it ends."
"No." I reloaded my gun. "Not like this. Not here."
Then I saw him.
A figure standing on top of a mausoleum. Silhouetted against the moon. Watching us like some kind of dark angel of death.
He wore a mask. Black and featureless. But something about the way he stood was familiar. The tilt of his head. The way he held himself.
I knew this person. Somehow, I knew them.
"There!" Flora pointed, seeing him too.
My gun swung towards the figure.
But he just stood there, not moving.
Then he raised his hand.
And the gunfire stopped.
Just like that. Instantly, the masked men retreated, melting back into the shadows between tombstones.
The cemetery fell silent except for our ragged breathing.
The figure looked down at us. Even through the mask, I felt his gaze. Felt it focused specifically on Flora.
Then he spoke. His voice was distorted, and mechanical, but somehow still familiar.
"Time's up, Lucia."
Flora flinched at her real name.
"Tomorrow night. Midnight. The place where it all began." The figure's head tilted slightly. "Come alone or everyone you love dies. And I do mean everyone, Rafael."
My blood ran cold at the casual way he said my name.
"Wait!" I shouted, standing up. "Who are you? Show yourself!"
But the figure just stood there for another moment. Then he turned and simply walked away, disappearing over the other side of the mausoleum.