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My steps slow. Then stop altogether.

Something is wrong.

The driver’s door opens.

A man steps out, his broad shoulders scraping the door frame as he squeezes through. I don’t need to be close to recognize him. My body already does.

Gunshots crack through my mind. Then Asher folding to the ground. The memory tears through me violently, and I can’t move.

But then he raises his arm.

The gun points straight at me.

And I run.

I spin and bolt towards the neighboring house, cutting around the side yard, shoes skidding on damp grass. My thoughts tangle uselessly. Where do I go? Who do I trust?

The police.

The thought surfaces and sinks just as quickly.

Asher said tell no one. Edwin said they can’t help.

Edwin.

Dirty siding presses into my back as I fumble for my phone with sweaty hands. I try to look towards the street.

Heavy footsteps crunch through dry grass around the corner.

Before I can move, the man is only ten feet away.

A scream spills from me, high and humiliating. I turn and run again, legs burning as I sprint for the trees past the Bolton house.

“You’re making this worse for yourself!” he calls after me, his voice carrying lazily as if this is boring work. “Asher would still be alive if you hadn’t run.”

Tears sting my eyes as I reach the woods. The hatch hides beneath tangled brush, visible only to those who know it’s there.

My fingers claw frantically against the metal edge. I wrench it open just enough to slip through.

I’m only a few steps down the ladder when I pull the hatch shut overhead.

Underground, the world feels different. Silence closes in too tight. My breathing echoes off the walls as I stumble forward, footsteps uneven on the stone floor.

I don’t know which way to go. The tunnels twist and branch out in a labyrinth designed to keep secrets buried.

I bring up Edwin’s contact and press call.

Nothing.

My trembling thumb taps the button over and over.

No signal.

“Miss Zapera.”

The man’s voice carries through the tunnel behind me. “I have a message for you, that’s all. Come on, don’t you want to know what your brother had to say before he choked on his blood?”

My legs slow down against my better judgment.