Chapter 23 Chapter 23
I left my room when the house was quiet and the halls held their breath. I moved slowly and softly so my steps did not wake the guards. I counted the tiles because counting kept my hands from shaking. I slipped through the laundry door and used the garden path that hid under tall hedges. The night air felt wet on my face, and my heart beat hard like a drum in a school parade. I loved Damien, and I feared him. Both feelings walked with me. I kept my head down and stayed in the dark, and I did not look back.
The city lights showed like small stars on the ground. I kept to the side streets and watched the reflections in windows to see if anyone followed me. A bus went by and threw warm air on my legs. I pulled my hood tighter. I reached the café at the edge of the warehouses where the road turned rough. The sign flickered like a tired eye. Inside, the lights were low and the tables sat like islands. The woman at the counter poured coffee without asking my name. Claudia sat near the window in a booth. She wore a gray coat and held her mug like it was a secret. When she saw me, she gave a small nod.
I slid into the seat across her. The vinyl was cold and cracked, and my throat felt tight. “Thank you for coming,” Claudia said. Her voice was soft and careful. She looked older than yesterday and also stronger. “I had to,” I said. “I cannot sit still while men play games around me.” She smiled, and it was sad. “It is not a game,” she said. “It is a wound that never healed.” She leaned in. “Victor’s fight with Damien is not about money. It is about a person who is gone. Victor loved her. He blames Damien. He wants Damien to feel the same hole.”
The words sank like stones. I looked at my hands and then back at her. “You think Damien killed her,” I asked. My voice barely made it across the table. Claudia nodded once. “Years ago,” she said. “Quiet and clean. The necklace you found is a story they tell so the real story can hide.” My stomach turned. I thought of Damien’s eyes when he held me and how they went dark when he spoke of old deals. Claudia watched me with a kind face. “He keeps you close because you shine and because you make him soft,” she said. “Victor knows that. Victor wants to take from him what he believes Damien took first.”
Traffic hissed outside like rain. A couple laughed two tables away and then left. The café felt both safe and thin, like paper over a flame. “Why tell me?” I asked. “Why now?” Claudia glanced at the door and lowered her voice. “Because you still have a path that does not end with men like them,” she said. “I can help you leave. I can get you a car and papers. I can show you files that prove what Damien did. If you help me bring him down, you can be free of both of them.” The word free pulled at me. It felt bright, and it hurt my eyes because I had not looked at it in so long.
I remembered the first time Damien had touched my wrist in a crowded room and steadied me. I remembered the way he had smiled when I had spilled sugar and made a small snow on his shoes. I remembered the nights I had slept with my head on his chest and felt safe like a child. Love sat heavy in my chest and would not move. “What if Victor is lying,” I asked. “What if this is his way to break us.” Claudia shook her head. “Victor is many things,” she said. “He is not a liar about grief.” She pulled a small flash drive from her pocket and set it on the table between us. It looked cheap and harmless.
Her hand trembled, and she folded it back into her lap. “There is proof here,” she said. “Names and dates and faces. If you see it and still choose Damien, then that is your choice. I will not judge you. But you should at least see.” I looked at the flash drive and felt a weight fall inside me like a door closing. “If I take this, I cannot pretend I never knew,” I said. “You already know,” Claudia said. “That is why you are here without telling him.” Her words were a mirror, and I did not like what I saw. My breath came tight. The café smelled like coffee and old wood and something sharp underneath.
I thought of my mother’s letter that I kept in a box. She had written that love is not a cage and it is not a debt. It is a choice you make again and again with open eyes. I wanted to open my eyes. I wanted to stop being afraid of the answer. “If I help you, what happens to Damien,” I asked. Claudia looked at her mug. “He faces what he did,” she said. “He answers for it. I cannot promise mercy.” Tears burned my eyes, and I blinked them back. “I do not want anyone to die,” I said. “Me either,” she said. “That is why we have to stop this before it eats us all.”
A man at the counter scraped his chair. A truck roared past and made the window rattle. Claudia slid the flash drive closer with one finger. “Take it,” she whispered. “Hide it. Look when you are alone.” I reached out and my hand shook. I closed my fingers around the small hard shape and tucked it into the inside pocket of my jacket where the lining was loose. My heart pounded so loud I felt it in my throat. I wanted to tell her that I would help. I wanted to ask for one day. I wanted to run home and crawl into bed and pretend I had never stepped out of the gate.
Claudia watched me with soft eyes. “There is one more thing,” she said. “The man Victor lost was not just a friend. He was like a brother. He raised him when no one else would. The woman Damien loved was tied to it all, and the night it happened tied them together in blood.” The words twisted like a knot in my chest. “How do you know this?” I asked. Claudia looked down at her hands and then up at me. “Because I was there when the first lie was told,” she said. “I kept quiet to keep my life. I cannot keep quiet anymore.” She reached across the table and touched my wrist.
In that small touch, I felt a kindness I had missed. I felt like someone cared about me, not just what I could do. Tears slid down my cheeks. I did not wipe them. “I am scared,” I said. “Good,” Claudia said. “Your fear will keep you smart.” She took a breath. “If you decide to leave, do not tell anyone. Not even the maid you think you can trust. Meet me tomorrow at the old ferry lot at noon. I will have a car. If you do not come, I will understand.” The plan sat between us like a heartbeat. I nodded and then shook my head and then nodded again. Words did not come.
Claudia’s eyes softened. “You are young, but your heart is old,” she said. “Do not let men turn it to stone.” She smiled a little. It made her face look less tired. I opened my mouth to speak. I wanted to say thank you. I wanted to say I was not ready. I wanted to ask for the truth in plain words without names that cut. I lifted my gaze to hers. The café glass shivered. A bright spark flashed at the edge of the window. Sound cracked the air like a whip. Claudia’s body jerked in front of me and her mug tumbled, spilling coffee across the table as she was shot by a sniper through the café window.