Chapter 4 - The Midnight ThreatSomeone Wanted My Brother DeadThere were less than two hours until midnight.
Arthur became a different man.
Not louder.
Not angrier.
More dangerous.
His men turned our street into a fortress.
Cars blocked both ends of the alley.
Lights appeared on rooftops.
Every entrance was watched.
But none of it mattered to me.
All I could hear was:
The first boy dies at midnight.
Noah and Owen were asleep beside each other.
I sat between them.
Arthur came into the room.
“Which one is older?”
“Noah.”
“Who is weaker?”
“Owen.”
Arthur nodded.
“Why?”
“He cries less.”
Arthur crouched.
“Because he's stronger?”
I shook my head.
“No. Because Mom taught him not to waste energy.”
Arthur looked toward the twins.
That sentence seemed to hurt him.
He stood.
“We're leaving.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere safe.”
“Safe from what?”
“Everyone.”
He picked up Noah.
One of his men took Owen.
We were moved into armored vehicles.
I sat beside Arthur.
Chicago blurred beyond the dark glass.
“Where are we going?”
“My house.”
“Why didn't you take us there before?”
“Because I thought this was a local threat.”
“And now?”
“Now I think the threat is inside my organization.”
When we arrived, I realized "house" was the wrong word.
Arthur lived in a mansion behind iron gates.
Marble floors.
High ceilings.
Security cameras everywhere.
Staff lined the entrance.
People bowed their heads when he entered.
I held Owen's blanket.
“Do you live here alone?”
“Yes.”
“Doesn't it get lonely?”
Arthur looked at me.
“Sometimes.”
His bedroom was larger than our entire house.
The twins were given a room with two cribs, heaters, toys, and enough food to last a month.
I sat on the carpet.
Everything felt unreal.
Arthur appeared at the doorway.
“Don't sleep tonight.”
“I am tired.”
“I know.”
“Then why?”
“Because whoever called us wants something.”
“What?”
“The ledger.”
I touched my locket.
“You can't have it?”
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
“Because we don't know what it opens.”
He showed me the key.
On one side was a tiny number.
17.
I stared at it.
“That's not a key.”
“What?”
“It has a mark.”
Arthur looked closer.
It wasn't a number.
It was two tiny letters.
B-17.
His face changed.
“B seventeen.”
“What does that mean?”
Arthur turned.
“Get Mercer.”
Minutes later, the doctor arrived.
He examined the key.
Then laughed bitterly.
“Arthur, your father used numbered storage vaults.”
Arthur looked at him.
“Which one?”
“I don't know.”
“There are dozens.”
Mercer nodded.
“Before his death, he closed most of them.”
Arthur stared at the key.
Then at me.
“My father never told me about B-17.”
“Maybe your brother knew.”
“My brother died.”
Mercer looked uncomfortable.
“Did he?”
Silence.
Arthur stepped toward him.
“What are you saying?”
Mercer lowered his voice.
“Daniel Sterling wasn't the only man your father believed was dead.”
Arthur froze.
“Who else?”
Mercer looked at me.
“Your father worked closely with someone who disappeared the same week.”
“Who?”
Mercer whispered:
“Thomas Pendleton.”
Arthur's face became completely blank.
I had no idea who Thomas was.
Arthur did.
His younger brother.
The man everyone believed had died nine years earlier.
Arthur walked out.
I followed him.
“Who is Thomas?”
He didn't answer.
“Arthur.”
He stopped.
“My brother.”
“Was he your enemy?”
“No.”
“Then why did my father know him?”
Arthur looked at me.
Something in his eyes had broken open.
“Because Daniel Sterling was not just your father.”
He swallowed.
“He was my brother's best friend.”
Before I could ask another question, every light in the mansion went out.
May you like
Then the security alarms screamed.
And somewhere upstairs, a baby started crying.
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