CHAPTER 6: THE GUNSHOT
The gunshot echoed through the tunnel like a thunderclap.
Emily instinctively ducked.
Marcus lunged toward the sound, reaching blindly through the darkness.
Then...
Silence.
Not complete silence.
The steady drip of water from broken pipes.
The faint crackle of damaged electrical wires.
Someone breathing.
Someone else groaning.
Emergency lights flickered to life one by one, bathing the tunnel in a dim crimson glow.
Emily slowly raised her head.
Arthur was lying on the concrete floor.
Blood spread beneath his left shoulder, flowing into the rainwater that covered the tunnel floor.
Marcus dropped to one knee beside him.
"Arthur!"
Arthur grimaced, pressing a trembling hand against the wound.
"They... missed my heart."
Emily looked around.
The snipers were gone.
The laser sights had vanished.
No footsteps.
No voices.
It was as though whoever had fired had already accomplished exactly what they wanted.
Marcus tore a strip from his soaked tuxedo sleeve and pressed it against Arthur's shoulder.
"Stay with us."
Arthur gave a weak smile.
"They didn't come to kill me."
Marcus looked up.
"What?"
"They came... to stop me from talking."
Emily immediately grabbed the leather folder Arthur had dropped during the confusion.
The papers were still there.
Most of them.
But not all.
One section had been neatly removed.
Someone had taken only a few pages.
Who?
When?
Neither of them had seen anyone come close.
Emily flipped through the remaining documents.
"The files about E.V. are gone."
Arthur closed his eyes.
"Of course they are."
Marcus frowned.
"You knew someone would take them?"
Arthur nodded faintly.
"They've always been one step ahead."
Several minutes later, the three of them found temporary shelter inside an abandoned electrical control room beneath the hotel.
The room smelled of dust and machine oil.
Old breaker panels lined the walls.
A rusted emergency lantern cast long shadows across the floor.
Emily carefully cleaned Arthur's wound with bottled water from an emergency cabinet.
The bullet had passed cleanly through his shoulder.
Painful.
But survivable.
Arthur watched her in silence.
Finally, he spoke.
"You're different."
Emily didn't look up.
"From who?"
"From everyone else who's tried to expose Isabella."
Marcus leaned against the wall.
"What happened to them?"
Arthur stared at the lantern.
"They all wanted revenge."
Emily paused.
"And me?"
"You just want the truth."
Marcus removed his wedding ring.
He stared at the polished gold band for several long seconds before placing it on the floor beside him.
"It was never real."
Arthur shook his head.
"No."
"It was very real."
Marcus looked confused.
Arthur continued.
"She truly wanted to marry you."
Emily looked up sharply.
"What?"
Arthur nodded.
"Not because she loved you."
"But because she believed marriage would finally give her what she'd wanted since childhood."
Marcus whispered,
"A family."
Arthur didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
The silence itself confirmed it.
Emily found that harder to accept than any conspiracy.
Everything she had seen suggested Isabella was calculating, ruthless, almost incapable of empathy.
Yet Arthur's words painted a different picture.
Not a kinder one.
A sadder one.
She thought back to the video.
Isabella's smile.
The housekeeper's terror.
The shove.
There had been no hesitation.
No remorse.
But...
Could someone become that way?
Or were they born that way?
Arthur seemed to read her thoughts.
"You think monsters appear overnight."
Emily met his eyes.
"They don't."
"They're built."
Arthur slowly closed the folder.
"When Isabella was a little girl, she wasn't violent every day."
Marcus frowned.
"You just said she..."
"I know what I said."
Arthur sighed.
"She could also spend hours reading."
"She played piano beautifully."
"She adored her little brother."
Marcus looked startled.
"Me?"
Arthur nodded.
"You followed her everywhere."
"You copied everything she did."
Emily watched Marcus's face change.
Tiny fragments of memory seemed to flicker behind his eyes.
A lakeside.
Someone laughing.
A little hand pulling him toward the water.
Gone again.
Like mist.
Arthur noticed it.
"The memories are still there."
Marcus rubbed his temples.
"My parents..."
"They had therapy."
Arthur nodded.
"Not ordinary therapy."
Marcus looked up.
"What do you mean?"
Arthur hesitated.
"After the greenhouse incident..."
"They hired specialists."
Emily frowned.
"For trauma?"
Arthur looked at her carefully.
"No."
"For memory."
The room fell silent.
Marcus stared.
"They erased her."
Arthur gave the slightest nod.
"They believed forgetting would save you."
Emily whispered,
"But memories don't disappear."
Arthur answered quietly.
"They don't."
"They wait."
Suddenly, Marcus's phone vibrated.
All three of them froze.
He hadn't received a signal underground for hours.
Yet the screen now displayed a single incoming message.
Unknown Number.
No text.
Only a video attachment.
Exactly fifteen seconds long.
Marcus pressed play.
The footage was grainy.
Night vision.
A small room.
Concrete walls.
A child sat quietly in the corner, hugging her knees.
Ava.
She looked frightened...
But unharmed.
A newspaper lay beside her.
Today's date was clearly visible.
Proof of life.
The camera zoomed closer.
Ava looked directly into the lens.
Then, in a trembling voice, she said only four words.
"Marcus... don't trust..."
The video ended.
Emily frowned.
"Don't trust who?"
Marcus replayed it.
Again.
And again.
Always ending before the sentence finished.
Arthur suddenly reached for the phone.
"Wait."
He replayed the clip once more.
This time, he wasn't watching Ava.
He was watching the shadows.
In the final second of the recording...
A reflection appeared on the polished metal door behind her.
Just for a frame.
Arthur inhaled sharply.
Emily leaned closer.
"What is it?"
Arthur pointed.
"The person filming..."
Marcus narrowed his eyes.
It wasn't Isabella.
The silhouette was broader.
Taller.
A man.
He wore black leather gloves.
And on his right wrist...
A silver watch with a deep scratch across the bezel.
Arthur's expression changed instantly.
He whispered a name neither Marcus nor Emily had ever heard before.
"Victor."
Marcus looked at him.
"Who's Victor?"
Arthur slowly lowered the phone.
"The only person Isabella has ever feared."
Outside the control room...
A floorboard creaked.
Someone had stopped just beyond the door.
May you like
And whoever it was...
Had heard every word.
